Private Aurelion's Angels

[Aurelion Nova]

OBJECTIVE - Begin the Search
Where: Tatooine - Dune Sea
Why: Hunting a Star Map
When: Morning - Approximately 8 AM.
With: Me, Myself and I

As Aurelion sat on one of the higher dunes he could find in the Dune Sea close to port, he sat himself down in a meditative state. Crossing his legs and retrieving his data-pad from the sack at his hips. He grimaced slightly, more than a bit confused as to how a simple little module detailing the Star Map locations had actively given his data-pad a presence with the Dark Side. It was almost as if the very technology they were made from was laden with the Force. Regardless, Aurelion set the data-pad before him on the warm sand, and took in a deep breathe to steady himself. Resting his hands on his knees Aurelion's singular eye fell shut and he reached out with the Force to the data-pad before him. It was.... much easier for him then normal. Whether due to recent practice, events or simply because he was familiar with the data-pad he couldn't really say. Regardless as he latched his perceptions onto that whispering, ancient darkness of a civilization long since dead Aurelion felt a cold chill arc down his spine.

As this ancient cold, evil feeling seeped into him Aurelion held his breathe for a moment, struggling with correcting and balancing the sensation in his mind as that mental structure of his Force connection, that cracked and broken glass tower, now a few cracks healed, groaned and shook under the weight of the strain as Aurelion expanded his perceptions. Meter by meter did his influence expand out through the Force, carrying that ancient darkness with it; searching, probing out into the dune sea and the port city. He made no effort to hide his intentions, mainly because he did not know how, and this signature and presence in the Force would be easy to distinguish to another trained Force-user should they so desire. Through his searching Aurelion felt the minds of many people, many different beings all in a massive jumble from the port. Tensing slightly, Aurelion's brow furrows as he pushes his perception further, where he felt small, wriggling, dark presences in the port. A faint, similar darkness to the one in his datapad clinging to them like a pall before they suddenly winked out of existence. Though if Aurelion remembered correctly he had felt most of them in the more run-down section of the spaceport.

Before he could dwell much on these happening he almost gasped and lost focused as he sensed a very, VERY similar sensation lance it's way into his perceptions. All but identical to the coaxing, clawing, dark sensation on the mind the Star Map on Kashyyyk had been. However, Aurelion quaked slightly as there. were... other presences there. All flickering flames of shadow and though he was far, far away, beyond where his eye could see over the dunes... he could almost smell the stench of death upon them. His stomach, churning at this, made him begin to sweat in exertion, only for a single, flaring dark presence to take note of him among these flickering black flames. Aurelion had barely enough to realize this presence... SAW him... before his eyes napped open and he gasped. Panting and sweating as the data-pad, that had begun hovering before him during this, fell with a small thud to the sand. Well...... whether he liked it or not he had drawn attention to himself. Only time would really tell if it was all bad......

Vytal Noctura
Srina Talon
Telula Vale
Nimue

 

[Vytal Noctura]

W H E R E . A L L . R O A D S . L E A D

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: Aurelion Nova | Srina Talon | Telula Vale | Nimue
​

A pale Witch wandered over the threshold of a balcony that overlooked the city that surrounded them. Her steps fell short of carrying her out into the merciless sun of Tatooine. It reminded the Nightmother too much of the Brightlands of Ryloth for her tastes. Far too much yellow sunlight for a woman of Dathomir to enjoy. Whether it was more or less enjoyable than the presence now behind her, however, was debatable.​

​

Slowly, Vytal turned back around to look at the Hutt, large and self-assured as he was atop his platform. "There are others here that would give me passage across these dunes. And then they would have my gratitude."​

​

She had been in the middle of negotiating passage when a presence from the dunes drew her attention. Whether it was this Hutt or some other criminal claiming vast swaths of territory and demanding tribute, the Nightmother would not be denied. They weren't coming with her or even supplying any material help outside of the city and its surroundings. So for the slimy cretin to think it held any bargaining power whatsoever... Well, Vytal didn't fault him for trying. Merely for it being a poor position to play for more than its worth.​

​

With matters soon settled about her coming and going from the city, the pale Witch found herself perched atop a speed bike. Sometimes it was necessary to take the long way around. Shaded goggles in place with lengths of cloth from her helmet wrapped about her lower face, Vytal kicked the vehicle into motion. The loud whine of the bike echoed in the nearby streets as it shot forth.​

​

The source of the presence Vytal had felt was not far from the port, surprisingly. It was careless, but perhaps the one responsible thought the planet bereft of those able to sense them. There was not much on the desert world to attract notice. Or so it would seem. The Mandragora explored many worlds and scryed for the hidden secrets in the galaxy; they had found many indications of places of power in easily overlooked systems. Treasures lost to time. Tatooine might be one of them, and the Nightmother had come to determine if it was so.​

​

Not long after leaving the sufferable assembly of life, Vytal saw a figure up ahead and steered toward it ( Aurelion Nova ).​

​

The biker came to a quick stop where the hidden eyes of the Nightmother regarded the one-eyed youth before her. After a moment, she spoke through the fabric that hid her features still, "It is not wise to call upon such dark power this close to a city." It had been more than a mere conjuring of dark powers; there had been something old to it. Likely something this male had in their possession. Her eyes were drawn to where the datapad resided at that moment. "What purpose have you?"​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Tatooine - Dune Sea [General Area]
Tags: Aurelion Nova | Telula Vale | Nimue | Vytal Noctura
Weapons: Mothers Wrath | Holding Aces | HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon | The Ring of Aspiration | Te'Kyr
Transport: The Ferocity [Ship] | Freedom Wing [Speeder w/Provisions]
Miscellaneous Items: ORACLE [AI] | Holo-Comm [Communication Device]
____________________________________________​

The last time her booted feet met the scalding sands of Tatooine—An Imperial of the Galactic Empire had seen fit to impale her through the chest with a poisoned sword. If she thought hard enough, she could still feel the cold steel sink into her flesh, skipping through the hollow beneath her collar bone, whilst it protruded through the other side.

It was a clean strike.

She could remember the amethyst eyes of her enemy clearly. Full of hate, full of pain. Rightfully so. The Apprentice of Darth Metus had conjured a Smoke Demon to torment him with the visage of his father whilst it simultaneously went in for the kill. A wounded Srina had taken advantage of the distraction and buried her lightsaber in his back. He turned, so swiftly, and struck in kind. If she were a woman of words that could describe such as scene—She could only claim it fitting. Elegant, even.

The memory of a larger-than-life altercation that had taken place long ago lingered in the back of her mind. Contrary to the heinous reminiscence it should have been, mentally moving through the events actually left her feeling grounded. Settled, and whole. It provided clarity and purpose. The man that had been her greatest enemy had, in time, become her greatest friend. Adron Malvern was close to her heart as very few people were. In what way? They did not often speak of it.

They did not need to. Her connection to the Force had led them on an undeniable path. They both knew the truth. Regardless the violence it was little more than ancient history. A step toward something greater, something, long-lasting. At any rate…Srina was Echani. Through and through. She lived for the fight. Breathed combat—Victory or defeat. The Confederate Exarch hadn’t enjoyed death sentence that much in a long, long time. The scars were badges of honor. Both mental, and physical.

The pale creature should have fried beneath the blistering sun heat of Tatooine like an egg. Just as she should have turned burned to a crisp on Geonosis. Her lack of pigment was concerning, but somehow, she managed just fine. Hair of liquid ivory twisted in the faint wind that rose as she stepped down the ramp of the Ferocity. As she made her way along the winding dunes of sand, the sky was clear blue glass. She could smell the disconcerting scent of dry, baked earth, beneath rolling grains of nothing.

Why had she come here?

Whispers. Pictures.

Once upon a time—Force Visions had led her to a storefront on Coruscant. She had been on the run. It was there that she met her Master. A man that would become her family, mentor, and teacher. He was so much more than blood. Those same gnawing, flashing, aggravating images had brought her back to this hated world. Why? She did not know. It was vaguely disconcerting. She had thought that in all the time that had passed she had become the mistress of her abilities. She had mistakenly considered this skill mastered. Dominated, controlled.

Now she suffered the distinct joy of being wrong.

Waves of heat rose from everything capable of reflecting it. The effect caused sight to distort. Confuse. It was no small wonder that individuals who wandered off into the vast emptiness died. Either from Tusken Raiders, accidents, or sheer dehydration.

Her speeder had been pre-packed and prepared. Her clothing was a pale shade of blue. A fitting traveling dress, protective leathers beneath it, with a cooling blue cloak over that. Goggles sat atop a mass of perfectly woven braids and sophisticated curls. She looked very much part of the scenery with a muslin scarf of light brown wrapped around the lower half of her neck. It kept sand and grit from flying into her mouth. With the Ferocity—She left a four-droid squad of Magnaguard. Not for herself.

For the scavengers who thought the Ferocity was an easy target.

She didn’t dare leave it in one of the dilapidated starports. No matter how many times they were repaired, within weeks, the sands stripped them bare and the local population had a field day with the rest. Srina was not a fan of this world. What she felt clearly in the distance made her skeptical.

The Nightmother.​

It was no coincidence that they would wind up in the same place at the same time. This was the third Confederate Nightmother that Srina had known. By far, she was the most competent. Srina felt another flash begin. Another pull. A whisper from the Force that told her to move. She scowled, briefly, but found her being compelled to obey. Refusing the will of that which bound them all together was a hazardous gambit. Was this the hill she wished to die on so that her stubbornness might win out?

No. Not, today. Not yet.

The young woman slid smoothly onto the speeder and put the shining new unit into gear. The Ferocity held space for four of them. Between the mirage and the flame, she saw what called to her through the smoke and shadow. A young man. Perhaps, a little older than her sibling Eira Talon. Her frown deepened. She did not like the thought of younglings wandering Tatooine freely. The Force was unclear. Young eyes and a young heart did not necessarily denote, youngling.

She pressed the speeder forward and opened it up.

Silent words to the Nightmother would herald her imminent arrival…

<<I have felt it from Geonosis to Tatooine… I see the boy.>>, she paused as if to breathe and her thought continued to project, lightly, ringing in the destination mind. <<I am inbound.>>

​

 

[Telula Vale]

Location: Tatooine
Equipment: Currently just a satchel with assorted vials
Tags: | Aurelion Nova | Vytal Noctura | Srina Talon | Nimue |

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

It was hot. Never before had a statement held so much truth for Telula, and she had seen many things since her journey from home to Ryloth to join the coven there. Plenty of things she had questioned in her youth, plenty of things that had proven themselves to be true. But the heat of Tatooine was the truest of truths, and the ash-blonde near-adult had no taste for it. More than once she had groused to herself - never vocally, at least not until the Nightmother had informed the girl that there was business to attend to and Lula was left to busy herself for the time being.

Clearly there was something of importance that brought Vytal here, but for Telula she had come along for the opportunity to not only possibly find new ingredients for brewing new types of potions and tinctures, but also so that she had the opportunity to see someplace new. Oh how she disliked this giant sandbox already...The heat wasn't enough however to keep the girl from venturing around to pick through and examine all sorts of things that could be of use to her if she took them home.

It was this distraction that had kept the young woman from realizing that she had been left behind. While not overly concerning - Telula wasn't entirely helpless after all - she was admittedly confused when she realized that the Nightmother had taken off. Lula had watched the vehicle disappear and made a noise in her throat because of it. "Well....Alright then." she mused aloud, though admittedly didn't have anyone particularly around her to talk to at the moment - Kai had been left behind on the ship upon arrival due to the heat.

So rather than panic, or fuss about the matter, Lula merely went back to the browsing she had been doing before hand. Either she would be summoned, or whatever Vytal had rushed off to investigate would be satisfied and she would make her way back here. Whatever the case, Lula kept herself guarded now and kept her senses open just in case.

 

[Nimue]

L O C A T I O N | Tatooine - Dune Sea
Aurelion Nova | Vytal Noctura | Srina Talon | Telula Vale ​

Nimue rolled her eyes teasingly, directed at her sister-witch. The Nightmother of the Mandragora had far more patience than her Silmä counterpart. If it had been Nimue dealing with the hutt, he would have been a bean bag chair before the first no could fall from his lips. But then again, Tatooine was a hot, unforgiving world. Sanguinius Vampirika did not belong in the heat. Nimue found she had very little patience for anything here, even things that weren’t festering globs of flesh standing in their way.

Drawing herself further into the shadow as Vytal paced her way over to the balcony, the giant slug laughed. “There are others here who would grant you passage and then thank you for the pleasure.” Nimue chimed in with words clearly meant for Vytal, from her chair in the corner of the room where the darkness was most prevalent. It was a wonder she could be seen at all. In her all black outfit she was almost the shadow itself. The only thing that gave her away were the fearsome orange orbs staring unforgivingly at the hutt. “This pitiful sack of guts and skin doesn’t know who he’s playing with…” The Priestess would have continued further, entirely content to slowly stoke the fires of rage in the hutt, until a flicker in the dark side of the force caught her attention.

Nimue drew her gaze up from her painted nails, casting it over to the balcony where Vytal stood. She would have felt it too. After what seemed like an age listening to the hutt blubber and babble with his poor bargaining tools, they finally got the deal they were after. Why they had to make a deal with that thing was beyond Nimue, but the Silmä had been out of touch with the galaxy for centuries. Much to her own dismay, Nimue had firmly decided before they’d even set foot on Tatooine to follow Vytal’s lead. The Nightmother was much more aware of the hierarchy that extended beyond her own borders. Nimue was here to learn.

Following Vytal out to the speeders meant Nimue was forced to pull the hood of her thick obsidian cloak over her head. She stood out like a sore thumb against the acrid yellow sand that made up the majority of Tatooine. It was a cursed feeling, and a sore reminder of why the Silmä chose to keep to themselves and remain primarily on Illyria. As the sound of the Nightmother's speeder revving to life filled the streets, Nimue adjusted the thick obsidian umbrella fixed securely onto hers. Once the shadow had been positioned to suitably cover her, Nimue’s speeder joined in with its own cacophony of whine and sputters.

Opting to remain in the safety of the shadow her umbrella provided, Nimue listened as the Nightmother chastised the child. He may not have been a child, for all she could ascertain. The years and how they affected those of a different species were often lost on her. As she waited, poised to hear the answer to the question Vytal had asked, another pebble was thrown into the pool of dark force surrounding them, rippling out over the dunes of Tatootine. A flash of a name crossed Nimue’s mind, so quickly it was almost imperceptible were it not for the second ripple of force. Srina Talon. Nimue had only heard of Metus’ apprentice, she had joined his side long after Nimue and Metus’ time together had ended. But her presence was more than intriguing. The fact this young child had such an affinity to the force that not one, not two, but three masters of the darkside had been alerted of it… He was an interesting enough diversion from the path they had intended to take that day.

Nimue cast her gaze over the group. One. Two. Three. The numbers didn’t make sense. Hadn’t there been three of them on arrival? Vytal, herself and… Oh yes. The pretty, quiet thing that had joined them on their ship. Nim cleared her throat, cutting the conversation by directing her words to the Nightmother. “I believe we’ve left something behind.”​

 

[Aurelion Nova]

OBJECTIVE - Continuing the Search

Where: Tatooine - Dune Sea
Why: Searching
Wearing: Robes Lightsaber
When: 8:10 AM
With: Vytal Noctura ; Nimue ; Srina Talon ; And.... others?
Missing terribly: Telula Vale

As Aurelion collected his datapad and stowed it away in his pack once again he could feel many of the various presences he had felt through the Force spring into action. Trying to stand, Aurelion began to wonder when his usage of the Force would incur it's usual... penalty... only for the brightly-lit dunes of Tatooine to slowly dim, darken, then vanish altogether. His singular blue eye becoming a more milky blue as he sighed, thinking to himself 'There it is'. Aurelion decide that, blind as he was for the moment, he would only make things worse for himself by moving. Possibly even stepping in a sinkhole was not how he wanted to end his journey and so he simply sat right back down and waited. To the approaching trio Aurelion would, universally, feel fractured and heavily wounded in the Force. Though how they see him may differ from individual to individual.

Aurelion did not have to wait long, staring blankly ahead as he was, for someone to find him. He was thankful that they didn't feel like the flickering black flames he had felt both in the city and out in the dune sea. No. Aurelion was at least able to look at Vytal through the Force and he was.... both mesmerized and terrified. She appeared to him as a pristinely-polished skull, undeniable in her beauty yet an omen of the forces she wielded that spiraled and twisted among the empty sockets like a gleaming emerald serpent. Roiling with dark, whispering magicks Aurelion wasn't entirely certain he had never heard before.

As Aurelion studied Vytal's presence in the Force much more closely he couldn't help but notice an odd fracturing near her throat. A focal point of a myriad of crystalline faults from the coiling emerald body of the serpent of her magicks to the blank, hollow eyes of the skull her presence reminded him of. Aurelion was taken only from his reverie by the Nightmother's words, both the chastising and the question she presented him with. Normally this would make Aurelion jump, being spoken to by a grown woman like that, but strangely being unable to see her made it easier for Aurelion to answer. But to simply call it 'easy' was not entirely accurate. He still fidgeted and turned his blind eye away from Vytal out of instinct, ducking his head and drawing his attention away from her presence in the Force before murmuring back sheepishly "I-I umm... I'm just.... looking for something...." The thought not even occurring to him to try and lie to her.

It wasn't a moment or so later that Aurelion felt another presence and turned his unseeing gaze toward the approaching form of Srina, his face scrunching slightly as he saw.... familiarity in her. Her presence in the Force was immense, powerful, deadly and both beautiful and imperfect. Like a towering, imperious statue of a Goddess or a Ruler, wielding judgement and destiny in equal measure but..... with one singular crack, one fault, marring the impeccable marble of her presence. This fault, this crack, whispered and wailed a name Aurelion could not quite make out and sat just over the beating heart of the beautiful woman who drove towards him with all the determination and unstoppable focus of a natural disaster.

Aurelion swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry as he felt he could summarize Srina in saying she was as unstoppable as she believed, as focused as her eyes could ignore and understood by the single-eyed Padawan maybe more than she would ever realize. As that singular fault that laid over Srina's heart covered, laced and spread over Aurelion's being through the Force. Wounds, lacerations and traumas that had only just begun to heal. His heart ached for her and, even more strange than when he had met Amani Serys Aurelion found himself actually wishing to be her friend. She understood or, at least to him, it seemed like she would.

The last of the trio to arrive made Aurelion tilt his head, her comment about having forgotten something meaning nothing to him, and he squinted his singular eye as his vision began to return. Making him breathe a sigh of relief as the endless expanse of the Dune Sea made everything a distinctly yellow-tan haze. With this new arrival being a blurry splotch of white-on-black Aurelion could hardly make out he was, nevertheless, much more interested in the dazzling display of what she appeared as in the Force.

Nimue appeared to Aurelion as a figure that swirled like constellations, clad in regal, fine embroidery and ancient beyond measure. His own presence reflected back at him in her sense's gaze as something intriguing and amusing. Like a kitten batting at a ball of yarn or a puppy chasing it's own tail. But beyond that something just on the edge of perception reached Aurelion. An emotions buried under the finery and amusement that draped Nimue's presence in such a manner that, if the head of her presence in the Force were her senses, and the robes representative of her regality, refinement and upbringing... then what Aurelion felt beneath it all would be the 'bones' of her presence. What he felt could be summarized in one word.

HUNGER. Deep, gnawing, endless hunger that made Aurelion choke down a whimper as he put a word to this emotion. A crimson river of raw desire and an insatiable thirst that now made Aurelion see himself as nothing more than a small animal, prey, in Nimue's sight to be feasted upon. This made him shiver softly and withdraw his gaze from her, his intense study of her self-evident and he clenched his eye shut as he turned his attention to the other approaching vehicle. One that had been well behind the three women and Aurelion tilted his head, unable to sense anything aboard before he glanced at Vytal, as she had been the one to speak. "Umm... who..... I-I mean... do you know... who that is?" Aurelion inclined his head slightly toward the approaching vehicle.

What approached the four of them seemed to be an old, defunct transport of some kind. What could likely be called an 'ugly' or a vehicle comprised of the discarded parts of other such things. The vehicle came to a rest well away from the four of them, the rear hatch opening and depositing five individuals. Each of them cloaked in similar dark, shaded cloaks as they approached. As their eyes raised to the small gather, the five individuals spread out in a semi-circle, it could easily be seen their faces were marked with ritualistic tattoos of some sort of dark, black fire on one side of their faces. Addressing the gathered masses their leader, obviously shaven bald and with eyes rife with Dark Side corruption, smirked in particular at Vytal. "Greetings Nightmother. Darkflame's blessings upon you and your sisters, however, I am not here... EXPRESSLY to bring well-wishes. You see.... you have something we desire and...."

At this point the man licked his lips, his eyes widened and growing something closer to unhinged as his eyes bored into her, a Lightsaber appearing in his hand as well as his compatriots as he sniggered "...well..... I believe ones such as you and your friends would make quite the sacrifices to the Darkflame."

Meanwhile..... on a shipping trip....

V1 rolled through the market whistling and warbling to himself as he went. Photo-receptor taking in all the sights about him and generally enjoying perusing the various stalls and stores present. Though, unfortunately, trying to take in everything at once lead the little droid to missing something rather obvious. Namely one Telula Vale the little astromech ran head-long into, chirping and gibbering a cacophony of confused noises before the little droid adjusted it's sight on her and beeped quickly

"V1+You=Sorry!"

"Watch+Going=Not!"

Spoiler: Cult Group Leader

For whoever fights him, generally specializes in Djem-So and Telekinesis when fighting, also moderately skilled at pyrokinesis.

Spoiler: Cultists

Each also focuses on Djem-So, roughly as skilled as a lower-level Knight or a higher-level Padawan, they lack the Telekinesis of the leader but also specialize in pyrokinesis.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

W H E R E . A L L . R O A D S . L E A D

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: Srina Talon | Aurelion Nova | Nimue | Telula Vale
​

The Nightmother heard the thoughts of Exarch Talon as she raced across the distance toward them. Each having their own position in the Confederacy's hierarchy they had at times met and even spoken, but to date the woman of Dathomir could not recall a time it was not solely a matter of 'business' for them to discuss. Of course she could feel the other woman's power and knew she'd taken instruction from Darth Metus himself -- a source of power a Nightsister would be foolish to overlook solely because of his biological sex. Both were also experienced and accomplished warriors and leaders in their own rights. Whether Srina's presence was a blessing by the spirits, however, would remain to be seen.

A silent deflation of the lungs followed Nimue's words, which broke the literal silence that had descended over the dunes. Left something behind? Bright green eyes shifted to look over at the pale Vampirikan High Priestess. By the Fanged God.

One hand extended out toward her pale twin as Vytal pulled the scarf down from her face with the other. "Hear us," she began, "that the young at heart and pure of soul left in squalor be brought forth. Return them to us and set them back on their Path to more than merchants and peddlers can offer." The green mist of ichor began to coil about the Nightmother's extended arm down toward her hand. If Aurelion in his bashful, blind state could peer into the unseen places of the realm and across the Veil, he would soon bear witness to the conjuring of power he'd witnessed at rest only a moment prior.

She sought Nimue's hand in reaching through space and time rather than bear it alone. Together they could easily retrieve what had been forgotten.

At the other end, the ichor would billow up and about Telula Vale . It wouldn't ask permission as it summoned the young Witch as she had expected to occur, if not quite in the manner. How the locals took it was of no concern -- such matters were what the Hutt was for -- and they would have their wayward Sister swiftly returned to them.

Their effort would be just in time it for Aurelion to soon ask about another approaching vehicle. A question that drew the Nightmother to turn slowly in place to witness its arrival. In point of fact, she did not know who 'that' was nor did she suspect it to be people eager for honest work. Fortunately, the spell was well underway and would retrieve Telula, and perhaps a little droid, without requiring their direct involvement.

Such couldn't be said of their unwelcome Darkflame guests. "I've traveled the Endless Wastes and been consumed by the Undying Flame." The gauntlet covered hand extended out toward the cultists. "Show us your worth." The green smoke visible even beneath the merciless, sweltering gaze of the Tatooine's suns shot toward the men eager for sacrifice. Only the Witch wasn't aiming for them; she sought to turn the very sand beneath their feet (and especially that of their leader) into a consuming pit of agony and woe -- quicksand. A fate to let them bake within the sand so that their bodies may enjoy the sweet comfort of their Darkflame without troubling others.

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Tatooine - Dune Sea [General Area]
Tags: Aurelion Nova | Telula Vale | Nimue | Vytal Noctura
Weapons: Mothers Wrath | Holding Aces | HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon | The Ring of Aspiration | Te'Kyr
Transport: The Ferocity [Ship] | Freedom Wing [Speeder w/Provisions]
Miscellaneous Items: ORACLE [AI] | Holo-Comm [Communication Device]
____________________________________________​

The heated winds whipped by in scalding waves while her gear protected her from the worst of the effects of sand threatening to rend flesh from bone. The trek across the wastes was bereft of anything one might call interesting. She could see burned-out Raider camps in the distance as well as quite a few distinct forms of carrion. Beasts of burden that had died, painfully, in the desert. From heatstroke, starvation, or another predator was always a safe bet.

Silver eyes did not flinch at the sight of a decaying carcass. It was alive; Now it was not. There and gone.

There was no need to dwell.

The haunted memories of battle droids walking across these abandoned, empty plains, would forever be ingrained into her memory. The sound of tanks. Of soldiers. Of the scent of fear while Imperial forces rounded up the citizens of Mos Eisley. They offered shelter. What they promised was a hostage situation while they threaded their own people with explosive devices. When the Confederacy followed the heat signatures? A large portion of their forces would have been blown away.

Thankfully, it had not come to that.

Srina did not have any recollections of this world that were not somehow steeped in the battle against the Galactic Empire. Eventually, the Imperial faction had turned tail and run toward the First Order for cover. It was a long-sought-after victory but it was not the conclusive win the pale-skinned Exarch preferred. She did not abide when the enemies of the Confederacy lived to fight another day.

The only solution that was relatively certain was death. Even that, on occasion, was not entirely what it promised to be. Not what it used to be. She could see the face of a boy in her mind’s eye. He still seemed so young. Both in sight and in deed. The Dune Sea was not far ahead now. The face haunted, an eye taunted, and the voice rang clear as crystalline. Pale hair. Pale skin. Soft hands.

Not a native.

"I-I umm... I'm just.... looking for something...."​

Low confidence. He didn’t hold the bearing of a warrior, that, was for certain. When Srina blinked she was brought back to the brightly lit sands of Tatooine. She was close now. The otherworldly Echani let the striking presence of two others wash over her. They blocked the boy. One belonged to the Nightmother. The other—Unknown. The last was smaller than the rest. For some reason, they all felt equally imperative to her purpose but she couldn’t place why.

The Force required. Many viewed it as a tool. Often, Srina did the same. Yet when the time came for their roles to reverse, she found the ability to release herself to the demands it made far more beneficial than resisting. She parked her speeder with a sleek efficiency that bespoke years of riding and proceeded to remove and lock up the gear she didn’t need. The Dread Queen spent her free time riding at breakneck speed through the Brightlands of Ryloth. This was nothing. This heat, was nothing. At such a distance she didn’t need to reach deliberately through the Force to feel her mark. It was simply there. Breathing, living, and painting the area with a unique signature for her to follow. Her heart skipped. Cold, frozen thing that it was.

Why?

The boy called.

Srina felt her lips press together while her eyes flattened. How did a youngling call her from so far away? With such ease and precision? Her mind began to work the problem while booted feet carried her toward the disturbance. She could feel the others now. Closer, and closer. Just as she arrived it seemed that the Nightmother was performing some sort of spell. Unrelated to the child. Srina caught a glimpse, barely, before a loud vehicle showed up and it seemed that others were intent on stealing her quarry. Her eyes narrowed slightly. It was the only sign that something bothered her. These cretins? Low, squalling, blighted heathens?

Silver eyes judged in silence and found the opposition wanting. They wished to impede her?

Unlikely.

Vytal Noctura turned her green mists on the interlopers and Srina held the satisfaction of watching the robed men systemically panic. Only the leader, the speaker, seemed to have any idea of what to do to try and counter the magic. The quicksand tried to pull them down even while they attempted to find leverage using telekinesis. Toned arms came to cross beneath her bosom as the blue material of her cloak revealed a soft lavender beneath it all. Was this all it would take to do away with the loud and unruly cultists of the Darkflame?

The men that were slowly sinking into the ground began emanate a wave of heat. Srina could feel it begin to burn her cheeks, but moreover, she could see what was happening to the sand. They were concentrating their abilities to still the grit and dirt. To turn it into the one thing that wouldn’t move. Something they could shatter, break through, and subsequently try to pull themselves out of. Just before the trap from the Nightmother burst the silent Echani raised her arms and a thin telekinetic shield blocked the group from debris and shards of glass. A few of the cultists weren’t so lucky. Would they all manage to escape? Or would the quicksand begin again and ensnare those left behind?

Her words were few—But poignant.

“…Leave one alive. Preferably, the one who speaks too much.”

The rest had no purpose. Their presence invaded her mission, her goals, and for the trespass, they had most graciously forfeited the right to live. They simply didn’t know it yet.

Srina didn’t draw her weapon immediately, and instead, her form blurred. She didn’t teleport. Nothing so fancy and pretentious. She simply moved. Very, very quickly. The white-specter stood before the enemy before they seemed to realize she wasn’t where she had been. Likely, still collecting themselves, Srina did not wait. She held no quarter and no mercy. While their attackers seemed to favor fire the Echani had always taken after her mother. Ice—Was her affinity. The Exarch drew back her hand and pulled what little moisture there was from the air to reform and redistribute it. When her arm thrust forward jagged spikes of ice swirled outward from her in a wave. The satisfying scream of a cultist echoed through the area. Oh, one of her spikes had found its mark.

A cheap shot. Wounded, not dead.

Once she began to fight her eyes remained on the field of engagement. She would be mindful of the placement of the rest of the group whether she knew them or not. The Nightmother was the only one she held knowledge of. The glacier wave she had created melted and receded as she spun back in a whirling dervish of white and blue, pulling the liquid with her, so that she could target her quarry. Moisture clung to her skin. It was deceiving. Always, deceiving. A different cultist than the one she had wounded raised his lightsaber, looking for her to attack, but she held her position for a moment. Waiting. They moved in a way she knew. Used to multiple opponents. Turning them against one another.

They were strong. Made powerful blows. Fighting them traditionally…It would be a game of cat and mouse. Annoying, to say the least. Srina closed the distance once more, bending, and weaving beneath expert swings of a lightsaber. Her attacker user her momentum forward to control the flow of battle. What he didn’t count on was a strictly hand to hand opponent. His lightsaber was little more than a glow rod if he couldn’t hit her. Couldn’t catch her while she got in a physical hit that burned with frost each time, she made contact.

He grew frustrated and with a shout—Shoved her backward with a telekinetic push.

Srina slid back a few feet before her boots found purchase.

Her expression was blank. Inwardly, though none would know, she just might have started to enjoy it.

​

 

[Nimue]

T A G S | Aurelion Nova - Vytal Noctura - Telula Vale - Srina Talon ​

He saw something they did not.

Another realm, another time, perhaps even another life. The High Priestess of the Silmä was all too aware of the expression that crossed the young child’s face. One of mystery and surprise, a fear of what had yet to be explained, and a dread of the unknown. She had seen it many times, on sisters who were wielding the sight for the first time. No matter what they saw, it was always the same. There was little doubt to how it had occurred, the sudden swell in the dark side of the force that head led them all to his side in the first place. But Nimue was ever curious, it was her duty as a chosen one of the oracle…and what Aurelion was seeing was an unknown she could not allow to sit.

Her attention waned as Vytal acknowledged the presence, or lack thereof, of their third group member.

Nimue smirked to herself in the shadow of her umbrella that covered a large portion of her face. More than an age had gone by in which Nimue had allowed herself to forget about something as simple as a teleportation spell. The temple on Illyria was not small, by any means, and during her first year as high priestess she had used it many times. Yet, walking the obsidian halls had become a peaceful pass time. A break between one duty and the next, and over the years the ease of teleportation had been casted aside. Stretching her pale hand out to find Vytals, Nimue entwined their fingers until it was almost impossible to tell who was who’s, even with the difference in the hues of their skin.

“Näkijä, kuule minua ja kuuntele hyvin.” Ancient tongues flew from her mouth in sync with Vytal, spoken in a soft, dark tone that did not seem to fit Nimue in the slightest. “Kadonnut, koska vain lammas voi olla, nuori ja kauneus kaukana polusta.” The orange flame in her eyes died out entirely, replaced by orbs of pure, unadulterated onyx. ”Palauta heidät oikeaan paikkaansa ja ole valo, joka opastaa heitä matkalla.” Smoke of an emerald hue, emanating from the Nightmother, was quickly joined by wispy black tendrils of Nimue’s own creation. They met where the two witches joined hands, winding and spirling until it was nought but a cloud of darkness.

She hoped the quiet young thing at the other end was prepared, as the tendrils began to fold in on themselves to reach through space and time to find her. Being ripped from existence and squeezed through a realm not belonging to any mortal realm was quite a trip, even if you were aware it was going to happen. If it weren’t… well, Nimue hoped she had a stomach of steel.

With the spell well underway, Nimue partially opened her mouth to finally speak to the boy they’d happened across, when someone elses voice filled her ears. Confused, and a little more than irritated at the interruption, she craned her neck to find the source. When her still ebony gaze landed on the outline of a man, who by now was in the midst of using a rather cocky tone, Nimue placed an unmatchable frown on her face.

“I don’t recall ordering anything to eat, but the delivery service seems quite excellent regardless…” No matter their reason for suddenly appearing, Nimue watched with an expression of satisfaction as Vytal turned her wrath upon them. They began to sink, inch by inch by inch, into a sea of acrid yellow sand. The panic on their faces was entertaining and more than deserved. A cult looking for a child as young as their most recent acquisition appeared to be, could never be looking for any good reason. Normally Nimue would have stepped aside, and allowed the cult to continue. Though their methods were likely barbaric and spiritually wrong in every way she could think of, Nimue didn’t care about them enough to interrupt them, nor did she have the patience to tell them why they were wrong.

But, unfortunately for them, they had their sights set on something Nimue had already claimed. And they would have to fight their way through three pillars of pure, vehement dark side power. They were fools.

The following battle that ensued between Srina and the cultists, Nimue watched with an expression of curiosity. Metus had done well to train her, and everything Nimue had heard whispers of told her Srina was a power in her own right, but seeing it with her own eyes provided confirmation. Still, the fight was drawn out much longer than Nimue would have liked. The High Priestess finally dismounted her speeder with a soft grumble that was barely audible. She adjusted her gloves, ensuring that none of her pale white skin peeked out from under the obsidian. As the cultist flung a weak, laughable telekinesis move at Srina, Nimue adjusted her hood to cover every inch of her face.

Only when she was ready did she step around the speeder to face the last cultists not stuck in the quicksand as he charged for her head on. He stepped forward, swinging a vibrant blade of energy down to attempt to cut her clean in half. Nimue barely even raised her hand to counter it, doing so with a motion that couldn’t have been more nonchalant if she tried. The blade stopped, mid air, vibrating furiously as its owner tried to cut through the invisible barrier in its path. A sweat broke out over his brow, trickling down the side of his face and disappearing underneath his collar. Nimue, on the other hand, seemed entirely unphased that all one hundred and sixty pounds of him did its best to press the blade toward her.

“Pathetic.”

Her other hand rose, closing into a fist as it joined its twin in the air. For a moment, nothing happened. In fact, the cultist even seemed to be making progress breaking through the barrier blocking his saber until… A harrowing, ear piercing scream erupted from his throat, but it was quickly cut off by an aggressive gurgling as scarlet liquid bubbled from his lips. The saber dropped to the ground, hissing and fizzing as it danced across the sand. The cultist followed not soon after, landing with a heavy, lifeless thud by Nimue’s feet.​

 

[Telula Vale]

Tags: Aurelion Nova | Vytal Noctura | Srina Talon | Nimue

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

Being left behind hadn't affected Telula terribly, after all it was certainly much easier for her to get along with things rather than people. While she of course had warmed up to the Nightmother at the very least, most others she was still having a fair bit of bashful feelings towards, and couldn't seem to fully embrace the idea that she belonged among them. Creatures were just so much easier to get along with...And putting components together for potions was an easy way to remain busy and not have people constantly looming over or questioning her about why she was distanced the way she was. So, the idea of being left behind while the pair she had come with tended to whatever else hardly hurt the ash-blonde's feelings.

It had left her to be able to browse the area, to sate curiosities - at least until she found her legs run into. The sudden jolt against her legs had startled Lula, and she had quickly turned about to immediately begin apologizing despite the fact that she had not been the one to cause offense. When there was no one in her immediate vision, she glanced around before spotting the droid. At first her brows loft and she stared at the thing for a time as she listened to it, though eventually the odd speech made her laugh once and smile.

"No harm done," she assured. "Quite the busy little thing, aren't you?" Huh...strange how droids were easier to warm up to than people were too...Or perhaps it was because this particular droid didn't seem to have it out for her? Or because it didn't appear menacing at least. Though if anyone knew that looks could be deceiving, it was Lula.

Her time to examine this droid and question it further was cut short. Almost as soon as she had attempted to strike up conversation, she felt the tingling of magic as it literally stretched up from the ground and began to weave it's way around her. The blonde's brow creased, and she took not one but several steps back in an attempt to avoid the reaching darkness, but to no avail. It was attuned to her, demanding of her presence, and before she knew or understood what was happening Lula had been pulled from one location to another. Almost immediately her gut wrenched and her body threatened to heave from the effects of the spell that had transported her. It did not take - the heaving - though the nausea left her head spinning for the moment as she attempted to place herself.

Vytal, and Nimue...and others? It was hard to keep her head upright long enough to try and place anyone else for the moment. Telula doubled over and placed her hands against her knees. Surprisingly, the sudden intensity of the heat was actually soothing to the chill that had wrapped around her body to bring her here, but that did nothing to quell her senses as they kicked into overdrive. There was danger, she could feel it even if she couldn't focus on it for the moment though it seemed that the others were already working on taking care of it. Her head shook once, twice, then a third time roughly and she forced herself upright. She could power through this, she would power through this.

Though with trouble looming ahead right in front of her? "Shouldn't have left Kai on the ship...." she groused to herself, frowning ever so slightly now.

 

[Aurelion Nova]

OBJECTIVE - Stop and Stare



Where: Dune Sea
Why: Star Map?
Wearing/Wielding: Fate & Robes
When: Mid-Day
With: Vytal Noctura Srina Talon Telula Vale Nimue

Aurelion could only watch the violence unfold around him and hunker down in the sand to try and avoid being hit by a wayward exertion of the Force. As Telula and V1 were summoned to them the little astromech would emit a loud series of chirps and warbles, their cranial casing swiveling to and fro in panic as they rolled desperately toward Aurelion, kicking up sand in their wake as they all but barreled into the Padawan's embrace who, in turn, hugged their little droid friend close. Unable to really understand the hurried, babbled binary V1 emitted as he kept his single eye locked on the exchange before him.

As the cultist who had assaulted Nimue fell with a bloody gurgle and Vytal attempted to melt the sand beneath the feet or of two others, one being the leader, As Vytal began to churn the sand beneath them the leader would telekinetically lift themselves amidst the sand before leaping back out of the frothing abyss the Nightmother had called forth, his compatriot was not so lucky as to be able to copy the motion. Struggling, flailing and otherwise failing to save themselves they instead outstretched their arm and shot out a lance of black flame toward Vytal in an attempt to halt her efforts.

Now free of the Nightmother's clutches the leader of the cultists would survey the situation in much the same manner as Aurelion before sighing in dismay and, pressing a small button on his communicator, would turn to begin boarding the transport again. In the moment following an E-Web Heavy Blaster would emerge from the top of the transport, an individual armored in a varied assortment of armor pieces would be manning it, and they would open fire on Nimue and Telula specifically.

The cultist battling Srina, not at all pleased with the fight she was putting up, would elect to lift the body of their wounded compatriot and throw it at her, sending their fellow screaming toward Srina like a living missile before following this action up with another telekinetic blast aimed not at Srina, but the sand in front of her in order to blind and disorient her while they too began to flee back toward the transport. Aurelion simply stared at all this, intent on keeping V1 safe, but he couldn't help but have the thought that though these women were akin to angels, beautiful, graceful..... he couldn't shake the thought that maybe they were closer to angels of death.