Bad Company, I Won't Deny (Heralds of Chaos)

[Lord Ghoul]

Clad in a black leather jacket, jeans, and a t-shirt, Mikhail Shorn strode through the gloomy corridors of the Black Iron Tyrant. If one person in the galaxy knew of a group of Sith that still existed, it would be Kaine. The ex-emperor had a special relationship with Shorn. They had been friends, of a sort. Friends who liked killing things together. Ousting Tyrin and putting Dranok on the throne strained their relationship. That and banging Anaya Fen.

Shorn shrugged. @Kaine Zambrano could feel however the hell he wanted, but he, like Shorn, reveled in destruction. He doubted the ex-Emperor would pass up an opportunity to go and... kill things. Whatever. Mikhail needed a direction. Hopefully, Kaine could point him in one.

The Thronebreaker arrived outside Kaine's personal quarters and knocked on the door.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Inside of his quarters, the Tyrant of the Pacanth was clad only in a pair of black undergarments, his torso, arms, and legs kept bare as a physician slowly examined the ever decaying body of the Dark Lord. Shaking his head, the physician turned away from the Tyrant and checked the data flickering across a series of machines hooked up to Kaine's body. "Your body is deteriorating further, my lord. I must advise caution for any more exertion could accelerate the corruption running rampant through you." The physician fell silent with the glare he received from the aging Tyrant, who with a snarl ripped the IVs and cables running into his body out forcefully. "I'm a Sith Lord, Doctor. Caution is not my prerogative, but this decay cannot continue. I will have to find a way to decrease it's rampage through my body, until I can find a permanent solution." Unconsciously Kaine had begun to chew on his right knuckle in thought, leaving it gnashed and bloody, but he did not care. Such small levels of pain did not register anymore.

"Leave me, Doctor. I wish to contemplate alone." The physician nodded and quickly scurried out of the Tyrant's quarters, leaving Kaine alone to ponder his future and the state of his mortal body. After a moment of deep thought, he felt a disturbance in the Force that reverberated through his being, and the most peculiar thing about this disturbance is that it was hauntingly familiar. A specter of ages past that he had not seen since many battles ago, but had come to him of his own volition for some unseen agenda. Kaine frowned and flung a heavy cloak over his aging body, and moved towards the door right as the knocking began on the other side. With his right hand he opened the door, revealing the man of whom he had sensed prior.

"Greetings, Mikhail. I did not expect you at this hour."

Kaine's hair was a mess, a unwashed and unbrushed mane of black and gray hair that cascaded down past his shoulders. The course beard that covered his lower face was the same, and was more gray than black these days. His eyes were haunted and sunken, blackness forming under his bloodshot eyes. He looked far older than he should have, especially for one of his particular species. This was the toll of the Dark Side, untold power and might for the corruption of your body, mind, and soul.

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Blue eyes narrowed at the sight of Kaine. The once stalwart and proud Epicanthix looked as if he had not slept in a year and in that year aged thirty cycles. A frown creased Mikhail's brow. The ravages of the Dark Side seemed to be sucking the Tyrant's life away. That was the deception of the Dark Side... and the Sith. The harder you held life the faster it slipped through your fingers. Shorn knew, but didn't care. He wasn't here for immortality. He lived to get vengeance on those who had turned him into a monster. Drug cartels sometimes kidnapped people and injected them with drugs. Got them addicted. This was like that, but worse. The intoxication of the Dark Side surpassed any mere drug. He would tear apart their order piece by piece.

The Thronebreaker had escaped most of the ravages of the Dark Side. Mikhail's raven hair retained a ruffled, roguish appeal. While his face looked more worn, giving him the appearance of being closer to thirty-five than mid-twenties, his razor cheek bones and ice-blue eyes still caused hearts to flutter - I'm looking at you Kitt Solo. A body comprised of pale, lean muscles portrayed a man in his prime. He'd lost connection to the Force for a time, which had helped him evade part of the corruption. Two bouts of Force Light also served to push the corruption out of him, allowing his body to heal. But it alwasy returned. Persistent immersion in bacta tanks and a few reconstructive surgeries - particularly after the battle against Jacen, where half his face had been torn off - made him appear the eternal stud he professed to be. For him, the rottenness was within. Still, Shorn stared at Kaine. Was that this future?

He covered his unsettledness with a smirk. "Somebody needs their beauty sleep," he quipped.

As far as he knew, Kaine was a lone vornskr these days. A vornskr with ambitions. Mikhail could use that. Shorn let himself in and flopped onto Kaine's bed.

"Long time, no see. I think last I saw you was when we fought the Jedi together on Ossus. And now the Empire's gone and you're quarantined to a tiny section at the outer reaches of the galaxy. That must really sting," he stared slyly at the Epicanthix. "Grand Ex-emperor, ex-vizier, Kaine Zambrano. Tyrant of some insignificant system...." Shorn stuck out his lower lip in a pouting expression. "But I hate beating around the bush. Neither of us is happy where we are. Especially not when there's rumors of a phantom Sith Council out there claiming lordship over us all. That just gets my dander up," he said tritely, then pointed at Kaine. "You want to be Dark Lord of the Sith. I want to crush idiot posers. We should team up. Like Junction. Admit it, we'd be bad ass."

@Kaine Zambrano

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine was about to explain the problem with his assumption that Kaine wanted to be the Dark Lord of the Sith, when the true Dark Lord was out there known only to his most devout followers, but he stopped himself. Let Shorn think that about Kaine, it only furthered his secrecy. "I'd hardly call the Pacanth Reach insignificant, but I digress. I too have heard rumors of a cabal of ingrates proclaiming themselves our Lords, led by what will no doubt be some fool with delusions of grandeur when he hardly understands the true nature of the Force. No matter, if you come before me with an offer of allegiance to put these fools in their place, then I will gladly accept." Kaine said as he closed the chamber door, and moved from the entryway to the bar and began to fix himself a drink, and one for Mikhail. He didn't exactly know what tastes Shorn had, so he poured him what he poured himself, dark rich wine. Once he was finished, he brought both drinks and held out Mikhail's for him to take it.

"I remember those days, Junction... Concord Dawn. Glory days, nostalgic to no end. The purging of Junction, the death of Teferi Efreet, and during the reign of Emperor Moridin. Those were good times, but that was all shattered when Ashin took the throne. Oh, I do not blame her, it is in Sith nature to plot and to scheme, and her reign brought on many new advances to the Empire. Our borders grew rapidly, and our military might improved significantly, but then she too was not strong enough to survive being overthrown. I blame the Empire's eventually downfall on Voracitos, that fool. His ambition to rule, and his shadowy regime ruined us. Not even I could fix what he had done, and the Empire is now a series of ruinous states all fighting for control of the remains." He took a deep drink from his glass, letting the cool wine quench the fiery hatred on his tongue.

"But, enough rambling. You came here with an offer, and with a plan no doubt, yes?"

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The dismissive, raven-haired scoundrel continued to casually lounge upon Kaine's bed, arms folded behind his head. Mikhail half-listened to Kaine's words, distracted by the silk sheets and plush comforter which seemed ridiculously comfy. Oh, for the life of a genocidal tyrant. He reached out and accepted the glass Kaine offered. Okay, so he could admit to being paranoid about Kaine trying to poison him. Something about accepting drinks from Sith Lords who wiped out whole populations put him on edge. Plus, Kaine might still be upset about the whole throne breaking thing. Or the Anaya thing. Whatever. He hadn't decided if he was going to drink or not.

Shorn rolled his eyes as Kaine droned on about how his predecessors had ruined the Empire. Mikhail could care less. His only regret about the Empire imploding was that he hadn't been the one to bring it down.

"Please. Me? Planless?" Mikhail gave him a look. "We're going to find this 'Sith Council' and then we're going to rip their hearts out, put their heads on stakes... something poetic."

@[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine chuckled, "I'm more fond of flaying them alive myself, but your method should suffice." He took another drink, noticing that Mikhail wasn't drinking himself, but that was understandable. He'd be a fool just to drink the moment he received the drink, but in all honesty Kaine had no intention of murdering Shorn at this moment in time. He was genuinely curious as to what plans he had in mind, and perhaps to rekindle some of the nostalgia from the glory days. All they needed was the obese Sith Lord, and the Twi'lek wench and it'd be a real get together, best buddies, best pals. "My agents have reported congregations of Sith in former Imperial Space, nothing concrete, but a lead is better than nothing. You'd think they'd be more cunning than that, and set up shop in a different place. You know, somewhere the last Empire wasn't? If it were me, I'd base out so far in the Unknown Regions, away from civilized space... But, that's just me. So, we're in agreement. We want to see this 'Council' burn, but we can't do it alone, no matter what our pride or egos have to say about it."

"We're going to need allies."

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Yeah, allies," Mikhail grumbled, "Lucien's being a baby about the whole thing. Doesn't want to get his hands dirty. He said he'll send his son, but I'm not exactly expecting him to be the next Moridin."

He finally sipped the wine, deciding that he really didn't care if he lived or died right now. Spencer hated him. Lucien was apathetic. And Kaine just wanted to kill things. Life sucked. So he got over his inhibitions and drank in the cool taste of the aged drink. Slightly sweet. Not bad. Mikhail drank more, chugging it like a shot until half the glass was empty. He let out a sigh and licked his lips. The tense anger that had been gathering inside him lessened a bit.

"I don't know any other outsider Sith. Dranok, maybe. If you two could stop trying to kill each other for one second... But I haven't heard from him in a long time. Not even a post card. Ungrateful bastard." Shorn's lips twisted mockingly, remembering the whole temple building incident. Half-finished temples to the Thronebreaker still littered planets in Imperial Space. He narrowed his eyes. "Who did you have in mind?"

@[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine frowned, taking another drink to help wet his mouth before speaking, "There is not many that I would call upon, none that I would trust that is. Dranok is a good choice, however; he and I have put aside our pasts for the time being, we fought together on O'Reen against the 'tyrannical' Republic. It's becoming a popular name out here on the Rim, one that I don't discourage. The more people against the Republic, the better." He walked over to a plush reading chair, and slowly relaxed into it's pillowy embrace, setting his drink on the nearby night stand for a moment. "There are two, that I can think of that might enjoy a chance for murder, mayhem, and all sorts of chaotic amusement. One is my apprentice, Evelynn, daughter of the late Karin Dorn. She used to be such a shy creature, but then I worked my magic. Now she's a fierce mute whose line between pleasure and pain is practically non-existent. The other..." He paused for a moment to take a drink.

"The other, is a woman by the name of Nemene. Nemene Talith. You heard correctly, another Talith. This one apparently the legitimate heir of our old friend, Moridin. She doesn't like me very much, but that's only because I tortured Evelynn in the past, and the both of them are thick as thieves now. I think it would be best if you tried to bring them into the fold."

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

@[member="Darth Vornskr"]

"Wait," Mikhail stopped sipping the wine and nearly choked. "You mean the Cauldron Wenches?"

He grimaced, remembering his latest exploits with those particular females. Their interactions had been few and far between. He hadn't even thought to add them to the little group. Kaine probably just wanted to use them as his minions. Whatever. As long as the Sith Council got destroyed in the process Mikhail could care less. He'd personally take care of whatever Sith were leftover after the Heralds got through with them. Including present company.

Shorn slowly got up off the bed. "So you're saying that you pissed off the daughter of Moridin by torturing her butt-buddy and now you want me to go convince both of them to cooperate with us?" He poked Kaine in the chest. "You should be happy I'm made of charisma." The Thronebreaker rolled his eyes and heaved a huge, melodramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll go seduce them. Stop forcing my hand Kaine, you're such a pain." Sarcasm dripped. He winked, then strolled out the door. "Goin' to the Cauldron. Message me a good place for a base of operations. Someplace dark and spooky."

Some time later...

The flippant Sith Lord landed his luxury yacht on Rattatak before trekking up to the Cauldron. Apparently the planet was having special gladiatorial games today. Mikhail was told he would find the Ladies in their observation box. Clad in a casual leather jacket and plain pants that seemed banal for day-to-day wear but screamed "I don't give a damn" at important functions and meetings - like this one - Shorn made his way up to the box and knocked three times. They would know who he was. They probably knew the moment he arrived on the planet.

@[member="Evelynn"] @[member="Nemene Talith"]

 

[Lira Dajenn]

Nemene sat upon her throne with her legs crossed, Evelynn sitting in a mirrored throne besides her. Upon her silken skin was clothing that one would think a Queen would wear. Black and gold velvets trimmed with lace clinging tightly to her body, far more fancy than anything anyone around the two Sister Queens wore, but still clearly functional if there was a need to fight. Besides her lay a long Sith Sword in the shape of a broadsword, the hilt standing out like a cross on the blade and to her right lay a long lightsaber hilt.

Though the two Queens were not here to fight, Nemene seemed almost ready for it.

When word of Mikhail reached Nemene's ears she had almost absent minded waved him through all of the security protocols that lay around the two Queens. He had been a competitor in the tournament of the Cauldron, and she doubted that he came here to harm them, at least yet.

So When Mikhail arrived in his scruffy looking clothing Nemene said nothing, she simply looked at him expectantly, keeping one eye on the fight below, and one eye on him.

In the back of her mind she wondered what Evelynn would do.
@[member="Evelynn"] @[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Louise]

Leave it to the mute to be the talkative one.

Evelynn, on the other hand was not in the habit of displaying her armoury to frighten and intimidate the guest. If the Silent Sister wished to accomplish that then she would require no physical weapon but this was not a train of thought needed in this moment.

The door was opened and Mikhail Shorn was granted access to the most opulent observation box at the Cauldron. If you've got the wealth, flaunt it. If you don't, pretend like you don't care. Hobo-chic, which was apparently Shorn's speciality. Hey, who was she to judge, sure Evelynn sat upon the throne draped in silks like the flamboyant decorator got out of hand but simple cotton garments would have done her just fine.

Taking her full attention off of the fight and shifting it towards their guest, Evelynn offered a polite smile (manners are important, you know).

May we help you?

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"], @[member="Nemene Talith"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Okay, so one doesn't talk and the other likes speaking into minds. We'll get along greeeat. Mikhail thought. He found having people in his head really, really annoying. But he also really, really wanted to smash the Sith Council. Breaking all the protocols and being abhorrently casual of their royalnesses, the Sith Lord waltzed over to the nearest guest seat - of which there were scant few - and plopped himself down.

"Depends on what you want to offer." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Mischievous, ice-blue eyes bored through @[member="Evelynn"]. He noticed the silk drapery all around her. Lots and lots of expensive finery. Then he looked to @[member="Nemene Talith"]. Cold frost entered his eyes. Even if he hadn't known who she was he could tell she was nobility. It was all in the I'm-better-than-you clothing, the outright display of force with her weapons, and the way she haughtily ignored him. As if he were too unimportant for her to even converse with. With her silks, Evelynn just looked rich. Nemene? Nemene reminded him of Tapani. He smirked tightly. Dangerously.

 

[Lira Dajenn]

Nemene turned to regard, him raising a single eyebrow and letting her hand rest on the hilt of her sword at her side. It was an unconscious act, not one meant to be threatening or even off putting, a place to rest her palm really. She could feel the ego rolling off of him in droves, that much was easy to tell simply from looking at him. She continued to say nothing however, her sun orange eyes staring at him with an expression of slight annoyance.

It was not that she thought herself above him, he had performed admirably in the tournament and that had bought him a modicum of respect with her. It was simply that she was attempting for once to be civil.

Her bond with Evelynn had helped calm her a significant amount, but against someone like Mikhail...with no manners at all, well even the ice wall that was Evelynns calm could not keep Nemene's rage at bay.

So she sat there, quietly, her eyebrow perking up slightly and her eyes shifting to the Sith Lord. The Sith Ladies expression could have been made of stone for all that its worth.

 

[Louise]

Well, he certainly had attitude. Inwardly the girl grimaced, attitude did not survive for long upon Rattatak.

She turned her head to look to Nemene, just to ensure that the sheer gall of this man hadn't caused her sister to spontaneously combust. It hadn't. Although she had to concede, that her tranquillity was much like a time-bomb, sure it just sits and ticks for now but that baby is set to blow.

The other woman's silence meant that the mute would be doing most of the talking.

Well, the telepathy.

You can put those down for starters.

Leaving Nemene to sit and stare, the Silent Sister stood and stepped down from that throne on high, down to Shorn's level. A precarious place to be if any, but what can you say, the mute had people skills. Well. Some people skills. A smidgen. More than her sister at any rate. The sickly-looking woman drifted towards him, choosing to stand directly in front of where he sat. Don't worry, she's not going to eat you.

I presume, Mister Shorn, that you have not simply come to Rattatak to flirt.

What is your purpose?

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"], @[member="Nemene Talith"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The eyebrows went down. Well, one of them anyway.

Mikhail's eyes trailed past @[member="Evelynn"] to look at @[member="Nemene Talith"], drawn by the feeling of unrest rolling from her in the Force. He noted the hand on the sword. He'd seen a ton of similar gestures from saber rakes in the Noble Houses of Tapani. His antics had enticed similar results from them. Usually ending with someone dead in a duel. Hint: it wasn't him. Shorn smiled broadly, eyes flickering with some hidden emotion. His gaze returned to Evelynn as she dismounted the throne and sidled up to stand directly in front of him. She stared down at him with grey eyes like shifting clouds. He imagined they could go from promising light rain to heavy thunder in an instant.

He was tired of being ignored by the she-devil. Time to shake things up a bit. People tended to be all superior and uppity when they lorded it over you. Getting in their personal space made that all go away. They'd either get angry, or hot and bothered. Personally, Mikhail didn't care. But the latter would be nice.

Shorn got to his feet. He stood face to face with Evelynn now. "With a face like yours, maybe I did come here..." He moved closer, four inches of height giving him the perceptual advantage in this little staring contest. He could feel her breath on his face and he studied her eyes with an intense gaze of ice-blue that seemed to bore into her. Reaching up a hand, he toyed with one of her blond locks of hair, twirling it around his finger. "Just..." he leaned in a little closer so that their noses were almost touching. "To flirt."

 

[Lira Dajenn]

Nemene felt a flash of anger run through her, her eyes becoming alight with anger and rage. Through the bond she sent feelings of rushed anger, confidence, and complete and a complete and utter need to obliterate the man that stood before him. Yet she knew that such a thing was not the wise move here. Though every single muscle in her body moved to draw her blade and stab it through the mans heart, she knew it was not the wise choice.

Her rage was quelled, though it was thinly veiled beneath the surface.

Finally the Queen of Rattatak stood from her throne. She walked up behind her sister and ran soft fingers down Evelynns spine, nails digging into her skin and almost clawing through skins, a reminder that she belonged to Nemene, and no one else.

“Master Shorn.” She purred, her voice masking rage beyond anything else. “If you really have come all this way to flirt. I am afraid you will be leaving very disappointed.”

The Last of her words were more harsh than soft, and her palm was gently pressed forward. A small almost unnoticeable force push pressed out from her hand, not really enough to throw anyone, but enough to cause Mikhail to need to take a few step backs. “Now, why don't you tell us why you're really here.”

Before Nemene threw him back into the Cauldron.

 

[Louise]

The girl thought that their guest would now be getting to the point.

The girl was wrong.

Her eyes widened slightly as he stood and very swiftly became too close for comfort. It was madness, utter madness! Such unsolicited behaviour, and in front of her sister to boot! Her expression turned to one of horror and splashes of frustrated red appeared upon those angular features. He was demented, deranged, soft in the head! Just who did he think he was?!

Then came the fury.

Nemene's of course, through the bond it came, flooding into her body to wash away the frustrations. The temptation to deliver a cold hard slap to the face of Mikhail Shorn was great, but it was likely those cheekbones had received enough abuse to be granted immunity from the hands of women.

Eyebrows furrowed as her sister's touch now graced her spine, the sensation of Nemene's nails upon her flesh making her bristle slightly. The mute needed no reminder, and with that thought whirled away from the pair of them. I need air. With that point made clear, Evelynn strode out towards the balcony where she could take a moment to find her calm...

...and fantasise about Master Shorn being fed to her gharzr.

@[member="Nemene Talith"], @[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

His smirk broadened as red spread across @[member="Evelynn"]'s cheeks. The she-devil stormed down from her throne. He felt the anger rolling from her in waves. Looks like he'd stirred the pot a little too much. Her voice dripped with thinly veiled ire. Aha, so the blonde was the mute and not the other way around. Interesting. He opened his mouth to reply, when the Force rippled out from @[member="Nemene Talith"] and "bumped" Shorn. The Sith Lord stumbled back a step, blue eyes flaring wide. Oh no she didn't. A dark storm of malice rose within him, fed by his pure hatred for nobility. A Sith noble. All the worst things. Just throw in a little Mando blood and he would have to kill it with fire.

He wanted to rip her in half and toss her to her own beasts in the arena. Were they really trying to lord it over Mikhail Shorn? The Thronebreaker? His eyes stared frostbitten daggers of murder. Anger flowed through him in copious amounts. He had to find a release, otherwise he felt like he would explode. Shorn's jaw muscles tightened so much he felt like he would break a tooth. He reached out with the Force. CRACK. Hairline fractures spidered across the walls of the observation room. Part of Mikhail wished he'd just snapped both their necks and been done with it. But Kaine was right. They needed allies.

"Do that again and I'll rip your spleen out through your back," a tone of barely restrained cold fury. A sick looking smirk crossed Mikhail's features as he glanced at Evelynn's fleeing backside. "Obviously she couldn't handle my charm."

Eyes like twin blizzards settled on Nemene. "No. I'm not here to flirt. Kaine Zambrano and I just started a little group. Ever heard of the Sith Council? Well, they claim to rule all the Sith. I think they're full of it. Kaine wants more people on the good bad guy side before we wipe them out. He mentioned you two."

 

[Lira Dajenn]

“My my, a tantrum from one little push? Tisk tisk Master Shorn.” Nemene chided the man, though she said it so absent minded that she may not have said it at all. She seemed completely unphased by his little outburst, she had seen enough displays of power from her father that such things no longer really bothered her. His other words gave her far more interest.

Nemene and Evelynn had long ago seen fit to fill the galaxy with their own little underlings, spies and eyes and ears and the like. She had been hearing reports about a new group of Sith, lead by some person or another that she had no idea of. The idea of a new group of Sith was not really big news. After the collapse of the Empire it was not surprising that groups of Sith would pop up all over the place.

However, the Idea of a man calling himself the Dark Lord of the Sith and claiming dominion over all Sith? No that did not sit well with her at all. So much so that the mention of Kaine Zambrano did not even phase her, in fact she seemed to gloss right over it. Twin sun orange eyes stared back into the blizzard. “The idea of another Sith faction...troubles me. Especially one that already claims to rule us all.”

There was no hint of anger in her tone now, just complete and utter neutrality. Her mind was racing, ever the schemer, she needed more information.

Knowing Evelynn had heard Shorn she sent inquisitiveness through the bond, as if she was asking if Evelynn had heard anything about this Sith group that she had not. A preposterous thing really, given that if Evelynn had not shared something she would likely be the victim of Nemene's ire later. Before her sister responded however Nemene continued.

“I assume, that Lord Zambrano and yourself have other plans than just a simple confrontation. Even with Evelynn and I added into the mix the four of us are hardly a match for what I assume to be a goodly number of Sith.” She paused for a second, and then eyed him up and down. She was well aware of his reputation, and she had seen him fight before, but even he was no match for an entire army...much less one made lead by a council of what she assumed to be at least semi-competent Sith Lords. “You are powerful, there is no questioning that. Were it one Sith Claiming Dominion over us all i would back you in a heartbeat, but a council implies multiple foes, multiple powerful foes. I have faith in your strength, but not enough to risk my life, or my sisters. If it is direct confrontation you seek, I am afraid you well have to go elsewhere.”

She paused for a moment, looking to Evelynn as if communicating with her, then looked back at Mikhail. “However, if you wish to play a more subtle game...Then I would think Rattatak will stand with you, as will its Queens.”

For now.

 

[Louise]

Well that was enough human interaction for one day.

While standing outside she had left the door open, so she could hear the talk of spleens and Sith Councils. Upstarts. Fragmented groups of dark-siders with little footholds in the galaxy. How many groups had sprung up since the Empire's fall? How many had crumbled? Usually little cycles that impressed nobody.

Closing her eyes the girl sighed and pressed herself against the balcony, eyes glancing down to the pits below. What if she just leapt? Their observation box was at quite a height. Would she die? Likely not. If she was still living now what a little plummet do? Break her body? Bones heal, everything heals. Eventually.

Oddly enough that morose line of thinking reigned in her previous frustrations. Calm reigned supreme one again, and Evelynn was once more ready to be amongst people once again.

Coming back into the room she remarked the new décor with a small frown. Some people were just destined to never have manners. Folding her arms across her chest, she returned to Nemene's side and proceeded to stare at braggart, those grey eyes finding a renewed sense of steel.

So, can I assume that we are done here?

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"], @[member="Nemene Talith"]