Aliit Acar | House Vi'dreya

[Malok]

Location: Sahet'yaim (Sinner's Well), Ryloth​

Tag: House Vi'dreya - [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"], [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"], [member="Ode Vi'dreya"], [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Leona Vi'dreya"], [member="Damsy Callat"], [member="Amaya Cardei"], [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"], [member="Lace Vi'dreya"], [member="Ithiel Vi'Dreya"], [member="Zoe Rosella"], @Artemesia Vi'dreya, [member="Darth Ivum"]​

Ice and Fire.

The heavens above were a tapestry of black, littered with countless, glittering sparks. The light they cast was hollow and fleeting - unable to provide any semblance of warmth to the desolation below. Darth Metus had called them to the exterior of his personal abode, many apace away from the conventional comforts of Home. Yet, even that word was as fleeting as the warm offered by the nighttime skies. For those who had been born the same as He, so much as uttering the word home was to pluck upon a fresh scab. Time had allowed moving on to some extent, and yet any slight prodding would cause the wound to bleed anew. The pain was the sting of Exile - no more bitter than the chill which gripped the air. Even now, as the Sith awaited his kin, plumes of heat were made manifest before his eyes.

But, there was a reprieve.

Erected a stone's throw away from whence he stood was an inferno: a challenge to the bitterness of the night sky. Towering arbors had been felled and erected particularly, creating a bonfire that rivaled Darth Metus in height. At a glance, this was simply the means of providing a portion of warmth to those who joined him this night. Yet, in times past, he had always used the bonfire as a symbol of purpose. Once, on a night just like this, the flames were a challenge to the numerous Clans of Mandalore. Banners of every family and house stood before the roaring embers - and to each was given a choice. Stand with their liege, the Sole Ruler, or choose Exile. It was cruel irony that he was the one who delivered that choice, for the circumstances of his homeworld had resulted in his family choosing the latter in the end. Exile.

In the wake of the Mandalorian Civil War, all who were blessed with the Force in their blood became hated more than ever before. It mattered not how many years one devoted themselves to championing the causes of Manda'yaim, for the Force was now viewed as a blight. For Darth Metus as his kin - for Clan Verd as they had been known at the time - the Force was an intimate part of who they were. It was easily their greatest strength, and the source of their greatest services to their home. And. Just like the Civil War had split their people in two, the choice of which path to take rent Clan Verd apart. Some decided to remain faithful to Mandalore, despite how misguided the regime had become. Yet others decided to follow Darth Metus down the cold path of Exile.

And as they walked away from Mandalore one final time, they left the name Verd in their wake. Together, they adopted the surname of the Sith's mother as their own - Vi'dreya - and existed quietly within the Southern Systems. But the new beginning they had erected for themselves rang as hollow as the fortress that Darth Metus had conceived. It was a fine place to call home, but there was a gaping hole where soul and meaning were concerned. It was as if the entire family were walking on eggshells, trying against all hope to keep their backs turned on who they were. Even their leader was guilty of this reality, for day after day, he had to remind himself to "let the past die." But no longer. The affairs of the present had been the breaking point for many within the young House Vi'dreya.

The regime had seen fit to cross a line - and war was on the horizon. Yet some of the House saw this as more than simply a fight to avenge the homeworld of the cherished, family friend [member="Srina Talon"]...This was a chance for vengeance. An opportunity to strike a meaningful blow against the tyranny that had spurned them so easily. But to do this, they would have to stop accepting the path upon which they tread. They must become warriors once again.

And so, Darth Metus had called them here to join him in shaping their future. Would they choose to shed the label of Dar'manda? Or would they choose to truly begin anew in this place called Home? Only their words this night would decide.

 

[Srina Talon]

Sinner's Well​

...On an Overlooking Sand Dune...​

Far from the Bonfire​

Spoiler: Theme

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbT8Nor0N7k

So, Give me reason. To prove me wrong. To wash this memory clean.
Let the floods cross the distance in your eyes.
...Across this New Divide...

---

​

---

Srina did not understand why her Master had decided to call his children to the middle of nowhere within the dead of simulated night. Moreover—the pale beauty had not been invited. More often than not, however, this was her home and thus she would observe the proceedings as she pleased. The silent creature sat on a sandy hill that overlooked the bonfire at a distance. The leathery wings of her first sky demon, Etrigan, wrapped partially around her to shield her from the wind and chill.

Within her grasp sat a purple-hued dragon egg. She had received one in a Confederate event and tried to keep it close to her person when she was on Ryloth. There was nothing to suggest that the creature growing within the jewel-like shell could hear her. It might not have even realized she was there at all. It didn’t matter. It had been entrusted to her and she intended to keep it safe and warm until a new winged beast was born.

The guest list was notable. Mandalorians. It drew the pallor of her classically beautiful features into a state of emptiness. She held no ill will against this particular group. Many of them were loyal. Friends. The progeny of her Master. A soft wind tousled lengths of moonlit hair and pulled it with the wind like ribbons on the breeze. Her stomach felt tight.

‘Let the past die’

The words now rang hollow in her ears. She had warned [member="Darth Metus"] of this on more than one occasion. Even as an Apprentice, the Vicelord had often taken her advice, and in the past, the place of his Mandalorian heritage had often been the subject for debate. She had told him once before of his new family. Of his responsibilities as the face, leader, and driving force of the Confederacy. He had seemed to understand then…But now…Now—His blood was calling him home.

Mercurial eyes closed.

The battle on Eshan was still fresh in her mind. The pain of the events that had pulled them across the galaxy would linger in her soul like winters chill. It was deep. Settled. As if she had permacrete instead of marrow in her bones. Srina raised the egg she held, rather protectively, and kept it near. The night on Ryloth was exceedingly dark and full of terrible creatures. Even in their protected, reinforced fortress, she would remain alert.

Especially with guests soon to arrive.

Her bare feet rest in the sand. Her attire was plain. White, muslin fabric, with the pattered desert flowers that Geonosis had to offer. It held tight to the top of her torso before flaring out from a high empire waistline. The sleeves fell to the crook of her elbow before the rest of the material belled to drop to the ground. She was not dressed for war. If anything, touched with a white cloak, she seemed like a ghost.

Regardless, if anything went awry, she was prepared.

Was he?

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Spoiler

https://youtu.be/yntDx4Y4baw

You led my way, then you disappeared. How could you just walk away and leave me here?

Vi'dreya.

When [member="Darth Metus"] extended the invitation for Alkor to join his family at their meeting, he was skeptical. They were Brothers, chosen from a time when the Sith was still Isley Verd. Despite their differences over the past several years, some disagreements, and a massive chip on Keira's shoulder about the entire ordeal, Alkor never brought himself to fully hate the man for his decision. The politics on Mandalore had become more convoluted over time, and after Ra Viszla had his way with the world, the animosity toward Forceful beings only continued to grow. Manda'yaim was not a safe place for those sensitive to the Force. Perhaps it never would be again.

Alkor had lived without sensitivity now for a handful of years, and the change taught him new ways to approach life. It showed him how those not sensitive to it struggled to adapt and overcome adversity. He grew to understand their intolerance for those who had the gift and the frustrations that grew from that jealousy. It had helped to shape him into a more conscious person. It gave him a soul, where once he believed he might never have one. Mandalorians subscribed to the concept of Manda, the "Oversoul" wherein all of their people came together after death as a singular existence. It was both eternity and paradise in their eyes, and those who turned from it lost any hope of ever attaining that peace and passivity.

That all life was war, Alkor could agree with. The opportunity for peace after it ended? He had watched better men die and their souls scatter to the winds. The prospect of Manda had never truly given him comfort. It gave him something to think about, to yearn for, and perhaps for a time, it even inspired hope in him. When the reality struck him at Eshan, the back of its hand was cold.

Mando'ade revered honor and glory above all else. Putting civilians to the flame, even if they were Echani, was not glorious. There was no profit in it. To conquer worlds that did not fight back offered no accolades. There would be no champions. Any victory like that was hollow. So, what could they hope to gain from it? Added to the many struggles he had at Mand'alor's side, Alkor was left with more questions than answers and absolutely no faith in the Mandalorian people.

Now he stood at a crossroads. Offered the chance once more to stand at Isley's side, to sit at his brother's table and listen to what might be said, Alkor recalled the words that had rattled across the realm of death. The call to learn and finally understand what family meant. What did Isley intend for Alkor to learn, other than how to suffer? They had both watched their people fall, and yet, they had both done so much to help lift it up above that failure. Sacrifice upon sacrifice, only to watch as Brothers and Sisters tore one another apart in their vanity.

In the end, the honorable Mando'ade were no different than of the other savage cultures in the Galaxy. If anything, they were just a bit more honest about their brutality. Given the chance to walk on the broken backs of their brothers to the top, they would shatter spines themselves. His face was a mask of incredulity. Would he be met with acceptance, or with fury?

As he pulled the cowl from over his head and stepped into the firelight, he braced himself for the answer.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Location: Ryloth
Tags: [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Srina Talon"]

He'd been hunting when he got the summons. The Barrens of Ryloth provided a plentiful bounty of prey for the Sandalian to cut his teeth on. Though the hunt was brief, merely a passing sport to push time until his next mission. It had not been like the few days spent on Kashyyyk with [member="Scherezade deWinter"], that hunt had been a memory to stand unique in Cardinal's mind. However, now that his hunt had come to an end he must answer his brother's call.

Cardinal felt the sands under his bare feet as he grew closer to Sinner's well. His bronze skin seemed darker in the night, the only trace of light coming from the moon that shined above. Usually the large man would be clad in the armor of his station. A brilliant crimson suit, swarmed with flashing hexagons and adorned with a dark cloak. He'd cast that attire aside for his hunt. Now he wore only a rustic brown cloak, draped over his bare back. The Grey trousers he wore had been tattered and ruined, perhaps from some of the game he had intended to hunt in the darkest parts of the world. The only stark contrast of illumination on the man came from his eyes. Crystals smothered in fire and bathed in the light of the sun they were an astonishing shade of orange. It was those eyes that locked onto the wintry form before him. A blazing inferno sat in the distance yet she was here, far removed.

“You may as well join us. My brother thinks of you as family, you know?” His voice called out, deep and low as he approached the Echani woman. His presence was usually warm and inviting, at least to those he truly placed faith in, which numbered few. Cardinal's hand rested on the woman's shoulder. It was firm and brief, yet it had been there. He removed the withering cowl from over his head, gazing out to his brother, [member="Darth Metus"] curiously. “What is this about?” He whispered, asking more himself than the woman who stood beside him. He leveled his eyes at Isley before finally running a hand along the back of his neck. “Well I won't find anything out here…” He glanced over to Srina, giving her a warm smile before making his way down the dune and towards his brother.

“Why does the fire have to be so damned big? Planning to cook a bantha for a snack?” His words were spoken in a deep serious tone before finally his stoic expression melted into one that best described the man when in the presence of his family. Happy. He opened his arms, bringing Isley in for a hug. Slapping his hand on the man's back he would pull from him with a small smile. “Isley… You've gotten bigger. Those desk days wearing you out?” He asked, slapping the back of his hand against his brothers abdomen.

Cardinal turned when he saw another striding up. The man removed the shroud that came down over his head and immediately the Dominus Prime bowed his head to the man. Any who arrived this night were family and Cardinal could not be happier for it.

 

[Kishala Vi'dreya]

Kishala Vi'dreya
Location: Some distance away from Sinner's Well, The Nightlands, Ryloth
Status: Contemplative
Allies: [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]

​

​

​

It was rare that Kishala Vi’dreya found herself standing on her brother’s dominion.

If asked, she would blame it on the volatile extremes of the world, with its blistering heat and scouring winds. And those who knew her would even accept her words, as it was well known that she despised barren wastelands. The only thing that made visiting Sahet’yaim bearable to the pale lady was its location at the Nightlands.

But that was not the only reason why.

Part of her talent to influence views and bend wills of the lesser rested in the sanctity of her mind. It required her to be aware of every single facet of her thoughts and faults, even if she refused to admit the truth to anyone else. So while she would always give her brother a soft chiding tsk and crafted a gentle refusal with a smile on her lips, in her heart of hearts, Kishala knew very well that it was because she held complicated feelings for their shared blood.

It was easier this way.

Like those before her, the aether witch stepped out of the shadows and into the orange boundary cast by the dancing flames. Unlike how she was usually attired, in delicate finery and flowing ensemble favoured by her people, Kishala was dressed simply, in tan trousers and a white blouse. This, more than any words she would ever convey, revealed the tentative trust she was willing to extend to her brother and the rest of his claimed family.

“Isley,” she greeted, the name leaving her lips in a distinct lilt. “You look well.”

Her gaze flickered between the other two men, before she inclined her head gracefully to acknowledge their presence. “Kishala Vi’dreya.”

 

[Taozi Fuyuan]

Why?

That was the word of the day for Lace. It was the only question she had been able to ask as of late. Why, why, why?

Lace walked across the sands of Ryloth, clad in her black leathers, blending in with the night. In the distance, she saw [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] speaking with [member="Srina Talon"] before walking away. Lace had not seen the Echani woman in a long time, and decided to greet her before heading to the bonfire. Lace came up and stood next to Srina, looking out at the orange blaze in the distance where her siblings stood.

"Why so far away, my friend?" Lace looked over at Srina, noting the other woman's pure white attire as a polar opposite to her own black. "The nights are cold and dark here. Isley wouldn't mind if you joined us by the fire, I'm sure of it."

Lace gave Srina a small smile, before walking towards her blood family. She noticed that so far only [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] , Cardinal, and [member="Alkor Centaris"] had answered the family call from [member="Darth Metus"] and hummed in thought. She placed a hand on Isley's shoulder, looking into the fire. "It's been a long time since the whole family has been in one place, hasn't it? But that's not why you called us here, is it?"

 

[Ode Vi'dreya]

Location: Sinner’s Well – Ryloth
Summoned​

[SIZE=11pt]The fiery glow of the towering flames on the horizon was a beacon to a summons she had never expected to receive. There was a history in their bloodline of… Neglect wouldn’t be the correct term – but perhaps apathy? She’d been expecting that her relation to the Sith lord that shared 50% of her DNA might have meant there would be problems for her as she grew older, but it seemed she wasn’t going to need to wait long.

As the chilled night wind blew about her, Ode was reminded of a time in her life when things had been simpler, a time when it was easy to pretend that she’d belonged to something. That was a time she recalled fondly but was not foolish enough to seek out again. No. She was a Vi’Dreya – and there was nothing to be done about that.

Her simple black leather boots carried her near soundlessly across the hard-packed sand and within the violently shuddering orange light of the flames. The heat it was throwing off was a welcome change as she slowly strode closer to the bonfire. She pulled her hands out from the shapeless black cloak she’d thrown over her shoulders, the well-worn leather wraps around her hands glinting softly in the fire’s light as she raised them to warm her exposed fingers.

Ode’s eyes stayed on the flames for a time before she glanced around to those gathered there, sweeping across a good number of faces she did not yet know. She lifted one hand behind her back to shift the heft of the staff that was strapped there, moving it to allow her to crouch. As she descended she balanced on the balls of her feet, resting her arms on her knees as she returned her eyes to the flames to waited. [/SIZE]

 

[Allya Vi'Dreya]

Location: Sahet'yaim (Sinner's Well), Ryloth
Tags: @Damsy Callet [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Ode Vi'dreya"] [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Srina Talon"]

Arrived on Ryloth on a ship that she had been using since the Invasion on Copero. It was a beautiful, Scimitar-II. Armed, deadly, sneaky, with all the comforts she needed, and plenty of room for her droids and soldiers. It always houses the droids that acted as her bodyguards, as well as her clone Corporal, and another clone soldier that acted as her aids. The Sithling donned the Mandalorian Beskar'garm, as she always did. Helmet covered her face, black cloak was slung around her shoulders, and light-saber was clipped to her belt.

Unlike many of the Vi'dreyas, she wasn't a Mandalorian because Metus was. That was more coincidence than anything. However, it was because of her mother she had been raised as such. The Americus clan, it was almost a running joke. But they were Mando'ade and taught her well. They oversaw her training in combat from a young age, they administered her Verd'goten a bit over two years ago. She followed the resol'nare...however, there was one sticking point to that. She didn't follow the Mand'alor. She was waiting for the call of what she believed to be a true Mand'alor. And the one who was called it now, didn't fit the bill. Though, to be fair, she had never asked for Allya to come, and there had been no major threats to Mandalore itself either, since her coming of age. So, in a way, she slid by that Action.

So, where her father may be Dar'Manda....Allya rarely considered herself as such. As she finished her preparations, the girl moved into the central chamber, below the bridge. “Damsy, my sweet sister, it's time. Are you ready?” The main door opened up, and her clones saluted her. “Take care of the ship for me.” She chose not to bring her bodyguards with her. She wanted there to be no record of this meeting, unless her father wished it to be so. As Damsy and her traveled up to their father, she placed her right hand in a fist over her heart. “Su cuy'gar.” Regardless of what Metus thought about himself, regardless of what his apprentices said, regardless of anything else being true.........

Metus was her alor. And her hero.

However, this didn't stop her one bit. "Uncle Cardinal, Aunt Srina!" The Metus spawn rushed over to them, and bounced in her armor with excitement. Honestly, when she thought of who her family was, of who her Clan consisted of, her mind always went to her father, Cardinal, Adron, Srina, and Tacitus. True, she knew Lace, but it wasn't....it wasn't the same. Perhaps the small Mandalorian Sithling had attempted to reconcile her Sith and Mandalorian heritages and adopted the Sith who were instrumental for her being who she was. True, she was still the rebel, and tried to do the Sith thing her own way. But not from a lack of respect for her aunts and uncles, or father. She was still young, she would grow into who she was meant to be in time. "It's wonderful to see you both. And you as well, father. You look well. That makes me happy."

 

[Malok]

Location: Sahet'yaim, Exterior​

Tag: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"], [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"], [member="Lace Vi'dreya"], [member="Ode Vi'dreya"], [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"]​

He could feel her heart upon his own.

Ever since the alabaster woman stepped into his life, the two had effectively been one. One of Mind. One of Spirit. Darth Metus and his favored Apprentice were a force of nature when they were aligned; and very seldom did their sights differ on anything. Many months prior to the present, Srina had inspired the Sith to let go of the beskar shackles which kept him bound to the past. The Confederacy that he had built needed their leader to be of sound mind. To always put their people first. To not concern himself with matters of worlds several thousand lightyears away. And the Echani needed her Family to stay focused on what mattered most. They had each other. They were safe and indestructible together. So why now? Why had he decided to seemingly go back upon what she thought was the case in this moment? She need not utter a single word - for the stray thoughts ebbed and flowed between them like a river.

His response was simple. He glanced in her direction, settling his sulfuric eyes upon the distant wings that was Etrigan. Though no words dripped from his lips, she would feel the meaning written on their Bond. That past has died. We have killed it. He need not add trust me for he had her trust. Completely.

There was nothing left to say until his kin began to arrive. When the crunch of boots upon the thirsty ground drew his attention, Darth Metus turned on his heel. His gaze settled upon the towering form of a man whose face was obscured by a cowl. The Sith had an inkling that he knew who this was, as evidenced by how pale his complexion was in comparison to his own. But only by unwrapping the cowl did Darth Metus have his confirmation. He said no words at first, but immediately crossed the distance between them in eager bounds. "You. Are. Found." he said, caring not for the boundaries of personal space so that he might embrace the man. There once was a tale of a moment such as this. When a son that was lost found his way home after being cast adrift by the World. The father was not angry at the sight of his heir, but rather rushed to meet him, embraced him, and accepted him home.

Alkor Centaris was lost, but now he was found. There would be many questions that both men sought answers for - regarding the past, the present, and the future - but for right now, Darth Metus' brother would find the most pressing answer he sought. He was where he belonged. Where he always belonged - among family. And this time, nothing would change that.

A few moments following their embrace, more began to arrive. Namely a jovial [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] who greeted his brother with a tap upon the stomach. The Sith responded with a toothy grin, before jutting a thumb at the Dominus Prime's head. "Big talk from one whos hairline is retreating like the Jen'ari. Come at me when you have jests that actually bite." Though the future of House Vi'dreya hung in the balance, the mirth that Cardinal brought to the table was a reminder of what family was truly about. It was not supposed to be all grim and glum - sometimes family was all about the jokes and laughs. The Sith was grateful that his sibling brought this vivid reminder with him this evening; and even felt some of the tension ease in his shoulders as chuckles escaped him.

The next arrival was one he wished was closer. Kishala was one of the few of his kin who did not stand upon a Mandalorian foundation, and yet she still graced the gathering with her presence. This was…huge when it came to their relationship; for he typically was given a smirk and a well-crafted refusal before the HoloCall ceased. To see her here, in all her alabaster glory, caused the smile plastered upon his face to deepen. For a moment, he stepped away from Cardinal and Alkor so that he might take his sibling's hand. He...well...they were distant enough that he did not throw his arms around her like a bear, but rather he simply greeted her palm with a kiss. "I'm glad you could make it Kishala." he said.

There was much more that he wanted to say, but did not have the time to thoroughly articulate, as he soon found a hand upon his shoulder. [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] had arrived, but had previously been speaking to his apprentice in the hopes of luring her closer to the flame. In truth, there was not one among the Vi'dreya who did not already consider the Echani apart of their midst. She certainly was stuck at the hip of Darth Metus enough that they could be considered the same person in some instances! Nonetheless, once the invitation had left Lace's lips, she got straight to the point. Ever the direct one, her question was regarding the reason he had called them all to the bonfire.

He parted his lips, as if to begin, only to find his train of thought annihilated by the arrival of his daughters. [member="Ode Vi'dreya"] and [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] made their appearances in ways that were as night and day. Ode was silent and quietly took her place among her kin, whilst Allya eagerly joined them and greeted them aloud. A father's pride danced within his eyes at the sight of them both, for they both brought smiles to his face in differing ways. Allya, being one of his youngest, had been especially busy of late. She earned a place within the Dauntless Legion and was carving her own Legend throughout Confederate space. Though the Sith would never allow his praise to fill her buy'ce, he did give her an affectionate prod of her head with his finger. "And you are looking like you chugged a tank of caf before you got here." he jested, chuckling aloud. However, there would be time aplenty for laughs in a few moments. His tone shifted from mirth to severity in the drop of a credit as his hands clasped behind his back. The words he spoke were as thunder across the Nightlands.

"Listen well, House Vi'dreya."

"Behind us, we left our Home. We left Mandalore. We left our identity as Mandalorians. We did so for the sake of peace - for an impossible choice was laid before our feet. We chose not to spill the blood of our people; and therefore Exile became our way of life. Dar'manda our curse."

"But no longer. I have called you to decide the fate of our House - for I will not drag any unwillingly into the inferno of tomorrow. However and wherever we move shall be as one unit. One family. One mind. Before us is a choice once more: to rid ourselves of the Dar'manda label or to rise above it."

"But know...if we do rise above it. If we choose to adopt the Resol'nare once more - we shall pen a new Six Tenets together. The regime which holds hostage our home spits in the face of what we once believed. And so I will not bend the knee to Mand'alor the Infernal. I will not rally to the call of their Empire. Neither will I expect any of you."

"So choose, my brothers and sisters. Shall we remain as Exiles or shall we Return?"

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Alkor Centaris," he greeted [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] as she introduced herself. He knew very little about any of Isley's other family members, beyond Mandalore and Echoy'la. The estranged Verd who left it behind hardly kept in contact with those loyal to the Empire.

He began to glance around and even returned the nonverbal greeting of [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] as the man went on to greet the scion of their clan. The Sith Lord heard him, but he affixed his gaze on the fallen Mandalorian first.

Alkor froze as [member="Darth Metus"] approached. It could have been a vicious gesture or a kind one, the man still felt uneasy when faced with these situations. When he was thrown into a warm embrace, Centaris released a sigh. The weight that bore down on him fell away, like he was in a place where he belonged. At last.

At long last.

He clapped a hand on his brother's back thrice, having never been an emotive man. It was a marked improvement over the reclusive creature he had been when they first met. "I made it," he said quietly as Isley pulled away. "Sorry for taking so long."

There were many things left unsaid, but for now they were unimportant. The time for those words would come. For now, Isley addressed his family.

His eyes cast downward in shame. Unlike the rest, when he left the Mandalorians behind, it had not been bloodless. Isley wanted to part ways peacefully, without enmity. He did not have the right to speak on this, though it was offered to him.

He did, however, have thoughts to offer on the matter. "The Infernal fancies her reign one of benevolence, of rebuilding, and of cultural rebirth," he folded his arms. "She speaks of freedom for nearby worlds and neutrality with foreign powers, but plays at politics. Hers is a following that freely offers up their minds and bodies, fanatics who hang on every word she utters."

He stared now into the fire behind his brother, the distant warmth still more than enough to lick his face and draw out perspiration. Alkor could not sense the darkness, but it was so familiar that he knew it at once. It stoked his bitterness and he quelled his rage with a deep breath. It would not do to lose himself now. Not after coming so far.

"Battle after battle, she ignored my cautions and sought to unify systems under her banner. She sought to push Sith from her worlds. Then came Eshan." It was harder to swallow than many of his memories. He chewed his lip. "It is not the best interests of the people that drive her actions, as she would have it believed."

He turned his gaze to Isley now, eyes burning low in the firelight. "But it is hardly the first time that the Mandalorians have been split ideologically, nor the first time brother was pitted against brother. Hers is a regime that needs to fall, perhaps, but I say we leave Mandalore to its fate. No matter who sits atop a mountain of ashes, the wind will scatter them just the same."

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Location: Ryloth
Tags: [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Ode Vi'dreya"] [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"]

A wry smirk came over Cardinal's face as his brother pointed out his hairline, telling the tale that it was falling far from his eyes. He mockingly covered the bridge to his hair while showing his brother a contemptful gaze. "Someone has to age around here...Besides it looks like you've had plenty of bites." He said, mockingly before stepping back so his brother could greet the others. As the members of their family joined them, the man could not help but smile. There was happiness here for Cardinal. It was not as simple as a families love but it was something deeper. He gained satisfaction from the oath he had taken, to protect each and every one of these people. They were his charges, in a sense and he would die for any and all of them. His sunburnt eyes danced from one to another. Some he had met, some he had not, it made no difference. They were all here for the same reason.

When a woman introduced herself as [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] the man bowed his own head respectfully. "Cardinal Vi'Dreya." He returned with a knowing smile. His eyes turned to see [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] make her own appearence. Like Cardinal she expected there was more to this evening than a barbecue. "I'm sure we'll find out shortly." He told her. Cardinal looked to [member="Darth Metus"] expectantly, as if requesting he did reveal his intentions soon, however they were quickly joined by two others.

[member="Ode Vi'dreya"] and [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"]. The former took her place quietly by the roaring slames, speaking up to no one as to her well being. Like night and day Allya would bound over to Cardinal, causing him to chuckle at her enthusiasm.

"Allya." He smiled in greeting, placing a rough knuckle on the top of her buy'ce with a notable chuckle. "It is good to see you as well, my dear." His eyes rose when he saw that Isley had begun to speak. He placed a hand on Allya's shoulder while keeping his eyes on the man who led this family. He listened to his brother's words and took them in for what they were, a declaration. Isley had grown tired of seeing his people set upon a broken path, a pained path that would leave only destruction and confusion in it's ruin. Cardinal understood this, he truly did. Yet, when Isley spoke of returning to Mandalore the Dominus Prime was reminded of one thing. He was not a Mandalorian, nor would he ever be, not in the way that Isley wished.

He listened as his brother spoke with passion and flames to rival the burning sun. When it came time for another to speak it was clear, Alkor stood alongside Isley in many things but their views were not aligned in this, not this way. When Alkor fell to silence, Cardinal glanced down to [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] and smiled softly at her. She was his favored niece and almost as a daughter to him. He patted her shoulder softly before he stepped forward, looking to those who had gathered at Isley's behest.

"So long ago I was welcomed with open arms." He began, looking to each and every member of this family with a stoic expression. "I was shattered. The man I was had been completely destroyed. Isley was the one who restored me to a man. He gave me training, he gave me life, and he gave me somthing I had been robbed of....family."

"A warrior family!" Cardinal declared, raising a mighty fist in to the air for but a moment. "A warrior family..." He repeated, slightly softer, nodding his head steadily.

"I am not a Mandalorian. I will not be a Mandalorian." He enthused, turning his eyes to Isley with a certain gaze. "I do not believe we should set upon your brothers and sisters as just Mandalorians. We should stand as we have for years, as members of a team, a faction. Let the Confederacy deliver her justice upon these men who have lost their path." He explained, before turning to the others, looking to them keenly. "I have watched many of you for years, I have trained some of you, and I will stand by you no matter the decision." He returned to Allya's side, yet his eyes found Isley's for a moment before he did. "I am your brother?" He asked, not waiting for the man's answer before he said now what he had said a thousand times. "My sword is yours, always."

 

[Ria Misrani]

[member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Ode Vi'dreya"] | [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] | [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"]

Betty was unsure about the whole trip, her daughters told her it would be good for them. There was Caitlin, Kandace, [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] and now a new child to introduce to the brood Patrick Jude Americus-Vi'dreya, or simply Jude. He mewled in the blankets that wrapped around him, Jude was born early but was welcomed nonetheless. What made Betty the most uneasy about this entire journey was the very keen possibility of meeting the other Vi'dreyas. This also put whatever was between [member="Darth Metus"] and herself out in the open. Not that it was a secret of any sort given the children they shared. Still, Betty realized that if at any point in her life she was gonna fess up to her sins, it might as well be now. Manda knew that Jo was a good man but whatever love they had or shared, died a long time ago. Their children were grown, Andi was somewhere in the core most of the time and that left Jimmy and Daisy. Now, Daisy was smart and had a good head on her shoulders, Jimmy? Well, the boy was a special sort - great with a hydrospanner and a wrench but that was about it.

She sighed as the ship traversed the void, Ryloth wasn't too far out and Jude rested against his mother's bosoms. Betty looked down at'im and smiled, she'd been longing for another son for quite sometime. A string of daughters later and she finally had what she wanted, "how much longer Cait?"

"Not too much longer, and now we get to see the man himself and be a whole happy family." Cait resisted the urge to roll her eyes, as she caught a glance from her mother. "It will be nice to see Ally again."

Kandi wasn't her father's biggest fan but she knew better than to speak out of turn and instead wondered what Riley was up to. Riley's situation hadn't been resolved just yet as far as she knew Riley looked nothin' like them but rather looked more like Jo so the paternity test on that one was still out. What was known was that Riley was one of Betty's, so she supposed that was enough for her, for now. After all, blood didn't determine who was and wasn't family it was the reason why Clan Americus was as large and diverisifed as it was.

"I don't know about happy family but it'd be nice to see the rest of our siblings." Kandi managed to say, and even Cait had to incline her head to nod. "Not like we see them everyday, or ever, actually."

"I want y'all to be on your best behavior today, understood?"

"Yes mama." The two acknowledged in unison.

Betty adjusted the sling that held baby Jude close to her chest. All she could think about now was the future and that for her meant staying as an Americus or making the change to become a Vi'dreya. Now she could hear Jo about it now, it'd be about time that Betty finally did something that made some sense. Still, Betty wondered about Haeseria and the people of Durango. For now she put that down for another day, and prepared herself to meet with the Clan Vi'dreya.

 

[Kishala Vi'dreya]

Kishala Vi'dreya
Location: Some distance away from Sinner's Well, The Nightlands, Ryloth
Status: Contemplative
Allies: [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] | [member="Ode Vi'dreya"] | [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Betty Americus"]

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Before they could exchange any further words, the force of nature that was her brother swept them away with warm greetings and earnest embraces. Kishala observed their interactions with an air of amused indulgence, for while she always held herself at a careful distance from others, such an effusive display of affection and fondness has always caught her interest.

Alkor… Centaris and Cardinal Vi’dreya. With the ease of one who devoured ancient tomes and rare scrolls and memorised the wisdom contained within their fragile forms, the pale lady memorised their features and names.

And when the imposing form of her older sibling stood before her and took her hand into his own, a spark of warmth lit up her eyes and a smile curving her lips at his charming gesture. “It sounded important and I was nearby,” the aether witch replied with her usual blithe grace, her light words veiling that the missive she received had given her enough cause for concern that she wanted to see her brother with her own eyes to ensure his wellbeing. Seeing him hale and hearty was enough to alleviate some of the weight she has been bearing unconsciously.

It was with the patient curiousity of a feline that Kishala anticipated the arrival of the rest of Isley’s family, the ones who shared her family name. One by one they made themselves known, stepping within the warm glow of the flames. And as they exchanged their own greetings, a faint ache found its way to her heart. The pale lady acknowledged the sentiment, then dismissed it to the dark recesses of her mind. Perhaps she would follow its meandering path of the next time she had a quiet moment to herself.

Her silver eyes focused once more on the form of her brother as he began to speak, his voice clear and firm and determined as he spoke of his intentions, his words resonating through the Nightlands. As a being who only knew what little she did of the Mandalorian culture because of her familial connection, Kishala maintained her silence as she listened to the counsel from the rest of Is– no, her family.

“You have but to ask if you are in need of aid.”

Kishala may have chosen to keep her distance, but she was not a person who would turn her back on blood.

 

[Ode Vi'dreya]

Location: Sinner’s Well – Ryloth
Summoned
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Ode remained, as always, stoic and silent as more family made their presence known. [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] didn't look to be more than a child, which made what transpired next even more concerning.

She remained crouched before the roaring flames, those empty hands gently flexing and relaxing as they bathed in the warmth and glow of the flames, the dark brown of her irises reflecting the dancing light as she watched [member="Darth Metus"], her father, speak. What those eyes didn't show was the wealth of emotion that swam there - watching this near stranger gather around him en mass these smiling, kindly people she was learning were also her family. Watching this man speak in such warm tones and express freely affection with all these smiling faces. It hurt a part of her she wasn't aware could still ache.

She remained quiet and still as he spoke of Exiles... Of those cast out and forgotten. A homecoming. That ache grew, her heart heavy, the pain that lay dormant there coaxed to life anew. While her expression remained blank and neutral, she could feel the heat rising in her chest, threatening to spill from her eyes if she didn't rein it back in. A few deep breaths in through her nose and a hurried blink or two kept that heat at bay - but the struggle was real.

As he finished his impassioned plea to those gathered, she returned her eyes to the flames, waiting patiently while she listened to what these others had to say. It seemed to her that each of these people had a great affection for the man... Even those who spoke in opposition did so in a way to bolster the Confederate leader's knowledge of their care. All of it was too much.

She carefully retracted her hands, resting them on her knees as she rose back to her feet. She took another moment to stand in that warm glow, looking around those gathered, all those kind faces - people who she could call family if she so chose. The ache was keen, cutting to a part of her she didn't care to share with these strangers. Ode spared one glance to the man who had given of himself not more than what she assumed was one night of passion to bring her the life she had - and turned.

She fought to ensure that her pace was even, unwilling to literally run from this warmth, those possibilities - and she left.

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] | [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] | [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Betty Americus"]​

 

[Taozi Fuyuan]

Lace waited and watched as two of her nieces arrived to the bonfire. She smiled, amused, at how opposite Ode and Allya were. The smile stayed, even as she got no greetings from Allya. Lace had tried to help provide and spoil her nieces, but she often was not able to be there in person for them. It was only after a bit of banter between father and daughter did Lace turn to listen to her brother speak.

Lace's smile turned into a contemplative frown as Isley's speech continued on, and she gazed into the fire as Cardinal and Alkor spoke in response. "Writing a new Resol'nare..." Lace whispered, frowning. What would the effects of this be? The Six Tenants had never changed in all the years Mandalorians had existed, and now her brother wished to pen new ones? It could cause all-out war between the clan and the rest of the Mandalorians.

"However much I would wish to no longer be Dar'manda... Is this really the best course of action? War is our blood, yes... But diplomacy can be just as good. Mand'alor the Infernal is... reasonable. I vote we use democracy, before we start a fight with the Clans."

[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] [member="Betty Americus"]

 

[Malok]

Location: Sinner's Well, Exterior​

Tag: [member="Betty Americus"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"], [member="Ode Vi'dreya"], [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"], [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"], [member="Lace Vi'dreya"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Damsy Callat"]​

He could feel more than the heat of the bonfire.

Perhaps it was due to the everlasting river which ran betwixt Master and Apprentice...but the Sith Lord found himself listening more than ever before. In an era long since past, he simply wandered through life with a callous distance between he and all creation. He was a warrior. An agent of destruction and change. Though his kin were very near and dear to his heart, an infinitely younger Darth Metus did not seek them out on the battlefield. He did not hesitate upon declaring war for fear of what would may befall them. And in moments of peace, he did not quitely bask in their company. Though the heat of the flame was fresh upon his flesh, their radiance in the Force was far greater. He did well to recommit them to memory in that moment. Putting to good use the momentary breaks in his words and their responses.

And to his inquiry of the future did they answer. [member="Alkor Centaris"] spoke first. He, more than any who stood before the gathering this day, knew of his past battles intimately. He fought alongside the Sith in the name of unifying their people. He followed Darth Metus when the first Mandaloriam Empire was erected, not in the name of glorifying himself - but of reclaiming the millions of estranged Mandalorians who had been lost. In the Force, the warrior was a Midnight Star. He burned silently with an intensity that could raze entire worlds to ash. Yet restraining this cataclysm was a bastion of restraint. Of purpose. That was what it meant to be Alkor Centaris. That was what it meant to be a literal Force of nature, but also one of the finest generals a man could ask for. When he spoke, Darth Metus clung to every word. Culminating with: leave Mandalore to its fate.

Alkor had followed Darth Metus into the Mandalorian culture. He adopted the ways of his family and championed them to this day. For him to utter such words...it carried the weight of ten thousand stars.

In stark contrast, [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] was a hurricane. His presence in the Force was a literal typhoon of passion. Simply being around the man was infectious - so much so that his mood often colored that of the room. The man who was once shattered spoke with a wisdom that was beyond his years. It was no secret that Darth Metus was the senior of the siblings. Yet. When it came to matters of the heart, or matters of the future, the Dominus Prime was as reflective as a sage. His wisdom was effortless. And he offered it simply, yet impassioned, to his brother. He was not, and would not, become a Mandalorian. But in all things, his sword belonged to the Sith - and by extension to their kin. Of those who spoke, the brothers uttered the most. However, even those who had very little to say spoke magnitudes.
The distant chill of autumn was [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"]. Against the sweltering heat of the infernal summer, she was as certain as the rising sun. Though an ocean laid between Darth Metus and his ethereal sister, he knew that, if the situation was dire enough, he could lean on her for support. And she said as much, before them all. In a way, the Sith imagined that this was her way of introducing herself to those who did not know her. To let them all know that, for as sure as summer bled into autumn, she would be there if they needed her. She would turn their enemies to frost. Darth Metus smiled at the thought. In a similar vein, there came the river. As gentle and as sure as a cascade down a mountain pass - [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] spoke her mind. In this moment, hers was a spirit of peace; though she could easily quicken into a mighty avalanche when needed.

But one of the most striking feelings was the one who said nothing. For the most part, they were all...happy to be among one another. Relief bled forth from Alkor. Bemused joy from Cardinal at the sight of his nieces. One would think that pain would not have a place among their gathering. The reality was enough that the Sith blinked several times when the cold washed over him. Though he stood closest to the fire, he felt as if he had been doused by a literal downpour. He felt [member="Ode Vi'dreya"]...and she was sinking. As she rose, his lips parted to address his kin. Though uttered from various angles, they were of one mind. Mandalore...was not their concern. They were their concern. And whatever the future held, they would face it, not as the conquerors of Mandalore, but as a family. Not as yet another clan, but as House Vi'dreya.

"So be it." he said, simply. Yet with an air of finality. The Sith was the furthest thing from a tyrant, and he would not drag his kin into an uncertain future without them being one thousand percent behind him. They were one. They had to be, lest survival be pried out of their grasp. "Mandalore...will be left to Mandalore. Our concern will remain where it should be: here."

"But. Eshan must still be liberated. What I have built here, this Confederacy that we all call home...it cannot ignore what has been done to the people there. If the obliteration and subjugation of a people is reasonable, then we must be unreasonable in response. We must fight." He paused, briefly. He knew that they would follow him into whatever Hell that came in the future. But, beyond what laid upon the immediate horizon, the future was…uncertain. There was always a Mandalorian tug upon his heart. But. There was also a much quieter embrace. That of the mother whose voice was but a melody upon his memory. It was from her love that the name Vi'dreya came to represent their family. And perhaps, that was just what they needed to weather it all together. Love. Plain and simple.

"Beyond what must be done for the Echani people...We must decide how we will be as a family. The next generation stands among us and is being raised by us. How will we raise them? What shall we as a family represent?"

His questions were meant to be answered. Yet he did not tarry long enough to hear the beginnings of their responses. When Ode moved, he followed. She would not get too much farther than a few paces when his hand would fingerly catch hers as she breached the radius of the fire's warmth. What could he say to her? "You're home, Ode. You're home. Please stay."

 

[Allya Vi'Dreya]

She listened enraptured by her father and her uncle's speeches. Oh, she just wanted to cuddle up against Cardinal, to feel safe in his arms, and listen for hours to his stories. He always made her feel small again. It may be because he was a giant of a man, at 6'8'', while she stood at barely 5'2''. However, it was Ode who held the most of her attention. She could feel the confusion, the distance that drifted from the woman. She was so pretty, but so far away.

Ode had a right to be upset. To feel left out. For twenty years she had been left alone, abandoned. Allya was different. She was one of only a small handful of Isley's children that knew him, grew up with him close by, had access to his teaching and guidance. To make matters worse, she was probably the only one of the children that could say, her parents still spoke to one another. Her mother was on the way, just having given birth to another of Metus' children. She was one of only a handful that actually had full brothers and sisters.

In fact, Allya had been taken in by Metus, and trained and raised partially by him later in life. Her situation was unique among the children. However, that uniqueness, had carried its own burdens and costs. Taught to shoot and wrestle and fight by Jo, and Momma, and her older half siblings, she grew up Mandalorian. Completely so. It was ingrained into who she was. However, she also grew up with private lessons in the force use by Metus. She was introduced to the dark side from a very early age. At ten, she was taken to a Sith temple to be fully trained in the dark side When she passed those trials, she went to Cardinal.

Cardinal taught her love, compassion, mercy, and strength. How to use technology in her every day life. It was this man that had shaped everything that followed.

After that, she had learned so much. Uncle Tacitus had taught her how to do administration and to command troops with efficiency. Uncle Adron taught her how to appear perfect when dealing with diplomatic issues, and how to impress those you needed to impress, Aunt Srina had taught her how to remain cool and level headed, to approach situations with caution and always have a way out. Her father taught her what it meant to hold the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders. The mantel of responsibility, that those who had power had to use it for the greatest good. To protect what was theirs. To fail to do so was unheard of.

Unlike Ode, unlike Damsy, unlike so many, she knew the feel of her mother's cool hands on her when Sick, she knew the look of pride on her father's face when Jo had taken her on Verd'goten, and when she had passed the initial trials of the Sith. She knew what it was like to stand at her father's side when he gave speeches, to fight at his side, to desperately seek his attention and love, to do whatever it took to gain it. It was a double edged sword.

Because, no matter how one sugar coated it, she almost would have been better as a child if she had gone ignored by her parents.

She was born from adultery, and it stained her every interaction with people. Taught to fight from the moment she could walk, forced to use the dark side from the same, her entire existence was training to be the warrior her parents wanted....and what they wanted often conflicted. She grew up confused about who she was, as the Sith and Mandalorian cultures clashed and smashed her mind. Then came the Sith Temple training, the full on torture that left her body scarred, the pain and agony, the being forced to be in a Dark Side Nexus for years till the dark sided soaked into her very bones and soul, the being hunted by droids to prove she could survive. Then came the endless assassination attempts, the being forced to kill to survive. The star ship crash that took her only friend in existence. Sure, she had her father's attention. But she didn't have a childhood. Even now, she did her best to be happy because she understood it was a choice. But her very core screamed at its own existence. Maybe Ode should abandon the family.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ODDtLMiGnY​

But, it was the love of her Mother earlier in life, and the healing touch of Cardinal that had put her back together. Cardinal taught her how to love, to show compassion and mercy, to have the heart of a warrior, to be who she wanted to be. Cardinal was the reason she was who she was, that if she had even a hint of normalcy and joy in her, it stemmed from his actions. He taught her, that it was all this chaos, confusion, pain, love, hate, sadness, joy, tears, and happiness that made her who she was. She was passion. She felt so strongly, her heart ached at the pain in the galaxy around her, because she understood it. It grounded her in reality, that life wasn't perfect, but it was good. Positives, and negatives, pain and pleasure, sadness and joy. It was a balance. And she refused to give up on the woman without at least trying, because, Adron, Tacitus, Srina, Cardinal, Dad, Mom.....and Jerek, sweet Jerek....they hadn't given up on her either. They focused her, made her so much more complete. Without her family, she was nothing. Her heart broke to think that Ode was that way.

Allya stepped forward, fully clad in her beskar'garm, and moved to Ode. She reached out a hand to the woman. “It's okay to feel cold. It always is when you are alone.....” Until she had met Cardinal she had known that feeling so well. Always an outcast, even amongst her mother's family...even now, one of her sisters despised her, simply because of what she represented. She followed her foolish father...but maybe it was more despair. Maybe Kandi knew what had happened. Who could say.

She could feel the turmoil in the heart of Ode. “But if you run, all you ever can be is cold. There can be no fire that burns inside you, no purpose to your actions. Or, you can take my hand, and I will show you a world you can only dream of. I will show you everything I know, and share everything I am with you. You may not believe me....you may not care. You feel abandoned, hurt and lost, like no one knows you, or cares to know you. I care. I regret I couldn't be at your side before this. But I want to change that, I don't expect you to think of me as your family, or to consider me a friend. But, we can get to know each other if you want. The first step is always the hardest. But if you want it, fight for it. My name is Allya. What is yours? This.” She points to Cardinal. “This is Uncle Cardinal. He is amazing. He loves with all his heart. He protects with his entire being. He isn't blood, but it never mattered. He will protect you anyway. And that beautiful creature back there.” She pointed to Srina. “Is Aunt Srina. She is gorgeous, isn't she? Cold, cool, calculating, her gaze always gets right to the heart of a situation. So powerful. She is a safe harbor in a galaxy of chaos. That there is Aunt Lace. She is a bit weird, but, protective. A good woman, with a lot of good advice, even if it doesn't make sense half the time.”

She points at Alkor. “Don't know him....but Manda he looks like a beast.” She shouted at Alkor. “Vod, what's your name?!”

Eyes turned back to Ode and she shook her head. “Either way....don't go. Give me a chance. I know I don't deserve it. But I will do all I can for you.” Her hand was desperately reached out to Ode, as she tried to get through to her. Her heart burned fiercely. "If you have anger at us, shout it to the skies, let us all hear it. If you want to scream, do it. If tears well up in your soul, let them out. Take it out on us. Do not just run in silence. Because if you do, nothing changes."

[member="Darth Metus"]
[member="Lace Vi'dreya"]
[member="Ode Vi'dreya"]
[member="Kishala Vi'dreya"]
[member="Betty Americus"]
[member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]
[member="Alkor Centaris"]
[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Damsy Callat]

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Location: Sinner's Well Equipment: Outfit \ leg exoskeletons / trident electrostaff​

Objective: listen + try not to trip Tags: [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"], [member="Darth Metus"] + rest of fam ​

Theme: 'Sorry' by Halsey​

Who c a r e d ?

And why was she here?

​To play nice. The good daughter, solider, verd'ika, whatever she was to him now.

She had agreed to leave Kamino some time ago now, initially out of her own free will. For a few precious months, everything was new and wonderful and fine...until Naroh Se, in an attempt to convince Damsy to go back home with her, had told the sithspawn the ugly truth. All she knew, at the very least, which failed to prepare her for the extent of this meeting:

Rejected since birth and raised by an android taking on his mantle.

She barely had time to process that before meeting her sister and setting off for Ryloth, much less grow angry at the Kaminoan. No, her cold blood only boiled for her flesh and blood father.

Allya, the outspoken one of the two, had sat Damsy beside her, sufficiently out of the shadows and within plain view of her family members. Her kin. It didn't just feel strange, it was strange to look around the hall and see humanoids rather than a seamouse here and a friendly fanteel there. She recrossed her legs, an action that proved a bit of a challenge with her temporary durasteel exoskeleton braces in the way. It was well worth the effort however; stacking her legs afforded her a strange comfort. It didn't physically feel like it at all, but emotionally she could pretend that her legs were joined into one powerful tail.

And she sat, looking on, but barely listened to the dialogues at all. She simply stared, at least tried to smile, and nodded at arbitrary intervals. In fact, she had only heard bits, in the moments that Allya sat back at her side to stroke her hair. For some reason, that calmed her. She wasn't mad at the human, then, she supposed, and she truly had no reason to be.

After all, It's his fault, she had thought earlier on in the evening. Truly, some part of her had grown up knowing that much: Kamino's genetic technology wasn't It wasn't what had failed her, so to say. Made her abnormal. On the contrary, it had kept her alive as a child, and that left two people to blame. And now, it was only one.

Whatever emotion veiled this gathering, whatever the purpose of the greater reconnection of father and offspring, wasn't love, at least not to her. It wasn't about aliit, or whatever words that they used to describe it now.

It was cruelty. However well meaning Metus was, and regardless of if he recognized it or not, he was being so, so selfish. He wasn't leaving this time, no, but he was attempting to force Damsy back into his life, not the other way around.

She had choice words, but those could wait.

They'd still be there, one enemy that Metus wouldn't be able to easily kill.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

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Ship: Scimitar I-Class Star Courier​

Theme: Hey Brother​

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Wearing: Obsidian-Type Strike Armour, Knight's Obsidian Ring, Obsidian Executor Boots (Style 2), Personal Cloaking Device​

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Wielding: Blood of the Massassi, Mandalorian Heavy Pistol​

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​

It was cold, in the pilot's seat of the Scimitar, it always was. Normally, he'd have elected to use the more luxurious TC-500 Personal Transport, it was definitely suited for the longer travel he'd taken. But the TC-500 couldn't cloak itself to the naked eye, and sensors. And he needed that stealth ability, the very last thing he wanted to happen was to be attacked on site by his nieces, nephews, brothers and sisters of the Vi'dreya family. While he'd been gone since the birth of [member=Darth Metus], he'd still met a few along the way, mainly, [member=Ithiel Vi'Dreya], who he'd become rather friendly with. He didn't doubt he could hold them off long enough to cloak and slip away to his ship, and make his escape. He also didn't doubt his family's ability to track him down and hunt him to the ends of the universe. He'd been even more distant to his nieces and nephews than his own brother, Isley.

Now, it would have been a mistake to think that Isley had sent him the co-ordinates for a family meeting by a mere accident. That being said, he did not expect to be welcomed warmly, quite the opposite actually. A colder welcome than the temperature of the Scimitar ship he'd received upon joining the Knight's Obsidian, another way he'd been keeping track of his [Younger?] brother, Isley, and protecting him. It did not matter now, though, the Scimitar was breaching orbit, heading a few clicks South of the co-ordinates. He flicked a switch, activating the ship's cloaking devices, shielding him from detection via eye contact, and scanners. Then, upon seeing the massive Fortress that Isley called 'home', whatever that meant to him, he slowed the ship, and corrected the destination, pulling the ship up, going low.

He put the ship on auto-pilot, and headed to the ramp, the ship levelled out, aiming for the horizon. He hit the button to open the ramp, and grabbed his pistol, and tapped his ear, his mask extending and covering his face. The ship slowed as he looked down at the expanse below him. He tapped a button on his wrist, and the ship went lower, the ramp almost scraping the top of the wall as he stepped off calmly, grabbing the edge of the wall, his feet found footing on the wall, as he hooked the grappling hook onto a sturdy outcrop, and started lowing himself down on it. He rappelled half way down to the bottom, and once his feet touched the ground, he grabbed the hook with the force, detaching it, then reeled it back in.

Then, the 8'6 Sith Lord turned, he'd conveniently landed in some greenery, bushes and behind a tree. He quickly ducked, and peaked out from them, watching. He tapped a button, activating his personal cloaking device, as he walked out from behind the shrubbery, out into the open, and into darkness and shadows cast by the wall. He pressed a button, and the cloaking device deactivated, the difference was minimal, the dark colours of his strike armour blending in with the darkness of the night. He tapped the side of his mask, and it retracted, however, he opted to keep his hood on.

He started walking towards his brother, who he had only spoken to once or twice before. He towered over all of them, he could tell as he got closer. He only hoped they did not accuse him of lies, and of being a Mandalorian Spy, a spy for the filth who had betrayed [member=Taramaz Laurs], and exiled him. The filth who he'd called his home, his parentage, his history. He scorned them, and refocused himself on what mattered. The here and the now, his family. Most of whom did not even know who he was. He said nothing, and stopped, standing about thirty feet from the border of the gathering, in clear view in the moonlight, like a vampire next to a candle.

​

 

[Ode Vi'dreya]

Location: Sinner's Well - Ryloth
Summoned​

With her mind decided it wasn't difficult to block the sound of speaking as she walked, the gentle crushing sound of the sand beneath her feet a sort of calming rhythm that assisted with the numbness she could feel seeping into her limbs. Something about all these people, all this family, it was too much too quickly. Perhaps with some time and some distance... Though, it's not like she hadn't had those things before. Maybe she just needed more?

That thought was prominent in her mind as she reached the edge of the fire's warm glow, saddened to feel that the ache didn't seem to lessen the further she stepped from those gathered. She paused as she felt fingers wrap around her right hand, however, eyes darting down to the hand she found there and then over her shoulder to the face of the man she knew to be her father. There was a wealth of emotion in her dark eyes, but she didn't speak a word as she carefully removed her hand from his. She didn't continue to move away, instead turning to face him once more - hearing over his shoulders as her sister spoke.

As Allya moved into view around their father she moved her gaze to the girl instead. As she took the time to introduce each person who'd gathered she turned her head a touch, remaining perfectly silent with each new name and face. From those who appeared to be battle-tested warriors, to the two wraith-like women, with their pale skin and even paler hair... This family of his was a mismatched patchwork of every near-human she'd ever seen. It was strange to acknowledge that even in all that random - still, she felt other.

She took in a deep, and steady breath as the girl finally quieted, her eyes lingering on those outstretched arms before she turned to her father again and frowned a little. She took a step back from the two, everything about her body language speaking clearly to her discomfort as she turned back to Allya, addressing her in a voice that was soft and quiet - not belying any of the carrying power that their father's had, nor that the girl had exhibited, "Ode." It was all she offered. Those able to sense such things would still easily be able to pick up on the roiling pain there - but she let none of it show on her face. Opting to remain still and once again silent.

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] | [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] | [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] | [member="Betty Americus"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Taramaz Laurs"]​