Before the Pin Drops | TSE Dominion of Hex AM-14

[Thyne]

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C a n t o n i c a​

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With Life Day festivities in the past, the excitement (or dread) of coming conflict seeping into the bones of many, let there be a moment of rest before the metaphorical pin drops. Anywhere else, the air is thick with anticipation but here? ​

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The air is ripe with with foods and beach water. The game of chance finds itself being played by means beyond life and death. In the moment, the coming bloodshed might seem another lifetime away. Or perhaps the sudden change in scenery might provide too stark a contrast to provide relief for some. Not to worry, though, the bloodshed will come in due time. ​

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But first - a vacation. ​

Objective I: Beach Episode Part II: Aquatic Bugaloo

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The beaches are hot and the water is just fine. One might find themselves hard-pressed to find the ideal spot to lay down their towel, or a cabana not already reserved. It’s a small paradise, neverminding the fact that most of it’s artificial.

Is that a sandcastle building competition you see, looking for contestants? And doesn’t that frozen treat stand look absolutely divine? What of that purple tent, seemingly open for business, or the number of stands for both food and souvenirs closer to the resorts?


Objective II: The House Always Wins

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“Have a drink,” the casino’s manager, Croier Al’dien, says. His hair is slicked back, a perhaps overly-friendly smile rests upon his countenance. His hands are clasped in front of his person, more than happy to trade your well-earned credits for chips. There’s Lugjack machines galore and plenty of Sabacc tables to be filled. Or if that’s not to your taste, there’s always the racetracks, with races about to start at any minute now.

It’s double or nothing, no? The perfect chance to win big. Nevermind the odds stacked against your favor or the masters of sleight of hand sitting among you. The drinks are strong and the night is young.

You remember everything you had on your person, right?​

Objective III: Gotta go Fast

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So you think you’re all that, huh? With that lightsaber and that hankering for conquering? Why not try your hand in a friendly competition, make some extra credits while you’re at it? The fathier pens smell atrocious but the creatures inside are something to behold.

Let’s see how well you take charge of the beast you’ve been saddled with. Each has their own distinct personality; Young Gorgug is rowdy and rarin’ to go, Riz is skittish but perhaps just as eager. Chorn must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the stable - he doesn’t seem particularly keen about a new rider. Nevertheless, all these fathiers and more are ripe for the taking. Best be quick, though, the race’s about to start.

Ready...Set...GO!​

Objective IV: BYOO

 

[AMCO]

Objective I: Epitomise decadence.
Interacting With: My imaginary friend, Darth Puppykickius.
Post Number I

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Perfect beaches, perfect smiles. It was beautiful, it was artificial. In his eyes, that just made it all the more appealing.

Leaning an evenly-tanned arm on splinterless synthwood, the young Knight took another slow sip from whatever beverage he was consuming. It was delicious, even if he had no idea what it was. Some new Core World recipe, perhaps, or maybe it was a local blend. It had been a while since he'd had the time to visit a proper resort world, hadn't it? Almost half a standard year, as horrible as it may sound.

Blue eyes taking in the sights, a flicker of orange passing through them as he observed a particularly exquisite... display, he smiled contently. Kaas was lovely, but he had needed something different. Eyes flickering to a recent arrival, his smile widened into a signature smirk. Perhaps someone different.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Canto Bight Casino

The hustle and bustle of the Casino below were rendered as a soft hum behind the four sound-proof walls of the deluxe suite overlooking the main floor, allowing the occupants to indulge in whatever pleasures they desired without being intruded upon by the rest of the sprawling complex. As of now, the VIP suite was only occupied by one individual looking out over the mass of patrons coming and going about the Casino's many tables and gambling booths.

Taller than the majority of Casino patrons, he wore a cuirass of dark metal trimmed with exquisite gold and a cloak of maroon silk draped across his broad shoulders. The rest of his body was covered by finely crafted black silk, less flamboyant but nonetheless extravagant as the gaudiest outfit one could find in Canto Bight.

Darth Carnifex, Emperor and Dark Lord of the Sith, idly sipped from a glass of dark purple wine as he waited for his guest to join him. Though the rest of the Corporate Authority had joined the Empire many months ago, Cantonica was characteristically slow to integrate as it busied itself in sinful revelry. Now that it had, the Sith swarmed to it in droves to enjoy what many would consider a fruitless fortnight of self-indulgence. The Emperor, if he had anything to say on the matter, chose to be silent as he conducted his own business in the city away from the centers of Imperial power back on Bastion and Dromund Kaas.

A small droid, one dedicated to the art of etiquette, gently waddled up behind him. A synthesized voice announced, "Your Majesty, Lady Santhe has arrived."

His mouth briefly broke its stoicism to curl up in a sly grin, "Permit her entry."

[member="Sasha Santhe"]​

 

[Sasha Santhe]

[member="Darth Carnifex"] war an idiot. That's what Sasha had always said to him anyways. Currently she was enjoying a drink she had plucked off of a serving tray en-route to some less worthy gambler no doubt. It didn't matter because he didn't matter. Sasha mattered. The dress she wore was slinky to say the least clinging to her body in all the right ways with a slit that was just shy of being scandalous in more polite company. Kaine Zambrano wasn't that though. For color she had chosen something that would stand out amidst the typical sith red and blacks. Blue with a sheen drawing the eye.

As she walked she smiled at the gawkers, and the line of press photographers her assistant had tipped off. That's right, everyone watch Sasha.... look at her. She smiled politely and turned her cheek to compliments with a forced blushing bringing red color her face. Be the media darling you were meant to be, charm the audience, at least until you get to a more private venue.

"You'll have to pardon me," she said after another compliment came her way. Did that man love her? Did that little woman love her? Of course they did. The stairs to the back room where the Zambrano Emperor overlooked the crowd were elegant and winding allowing a full view of Sasha's regal presence.

Guards at the door let her pass into the sanctum created by Carnifex. Immediately Sasha's smile dwindled once she was alone. "Kaine," she said giving him a flat look. "We meet again it seems. You're as unkempt as ever, why don't you shave that bantha pelt you call a beard?"

 

[Lark]

Location: Casino

Lark spent the first few minutes in the casino mingling, reveling in the music and teasing pickpockets. This was the kind of environment he could thrive in, surrounded by people consumed by vanity, lust, and greed. He donned a brilliant white and gold shirt, with dark black pants and a scarlet cloak, which matched his hair. Like a dancer he moved from one group of revelers to the next, gossiping and telling jokes, learning secrets he could use to manipulate and control. He'd confront wary expressions with a charming smile, as warm and inviting as a cabin in the winter. He had a knack for understanding people, knowing what made them tick, how he could best use them to carry out his will. And he'd do it all with little more than clever words and sweet songs.

After a short time spent socializing and people watching, Lark began observing the games being played. He attempted to discern the sleights used by dealers, how exactly the odds played out, which racers to bet on. Then he'd sit down and play a few games, making sure not to win enough to draw any ire from his fellow patrons, but just enough to bring some attention to himself. It wasn't that he wanted attention, but in these kinds of surroundings being a bit more well-known might help him learn even more secrets that would be better off never reaching his ears.

And if a kind smile wasn't enough, it never hurt to have enough money for a bribe.

And so Lark weaved his threads between, hearing whispers that weren't of use to him at the moment, but could be key pieces of knowledge sometime in the future. He settled back, alone for the moment, red wine in hand. The night was young, and so was Lark. He had quite the party ahead of him.

 

[Collector]

Objective I: Rest and Recreation
Nearby: [member="Adrian [/FONT][FONT=georgia]Vandiir[/FONT][FONT=georgia]"]

The Purple Tenthttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmY7SXNf0fI​

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The sands and ocean water were no stranger to one Zazrael Lux, just as the sun and the system's weather patterns were no strangers to the purple fabrics that made up the small tent he took up as his own. It was bigger on the inside, its contents lining a multitude of shelves, maintaining surprisingly cool temperatures despite the heat of the world outside.

Zaz kept to his usual spot in the current moment, lounging across a multitude of fine pillows. His white tunic bore a stark contrast to the majority of his surroundings, his own skin being only a few shades dissimilar from the tent. The deep V and rolled sleeves of said tunic were quick to expose the multitude of scars and tattoos that decorated his arms and chest, just as it did the multitude of jewelry and amulets he kept on his person.

Appearances aside, the tent was open, ripe for business. And its owner lounged with a deck of cards upon his table, coupled with a small chest of dice which he'd give a couple a roll every so often. A lazy grin graced his features as he lay in wait, ready and hoping for a customer to add a small spark of amusement to his day.

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Objective: II

Er’in had loved beaches, until her return to Hapes.

Then, the growing violet corruption of her flesh had revolted her - she feared it, although she would never admit that to herself.

Now she stared out at the glittering sands, the white caps, the racing yachts and power boats, and brooded. She knew it was grandiosely gothic and completely petulant but with freedom from chains comes the freedom to be sixteen again.

She had at least had the common courtesy to not wear a hooded robe to the beach, instead she’d dug out an old favourite from her swimming costumes a deep purple (naturally) affair that looked as if a team of skilled engineers had been hired, along with designer architects to sculpt her flesh. She chose it not because she looked good in it - although she was very vain, and she did - she chose it because she’d worn it the day her mother decided to end her life and send the family crashing down even further into ruin, to saddle Er’in with the choice of a lifetime of debt servitude or vassalage.

The day Darth Metus walked into her life. Whatever she thought of him - and she thought more ill than good, at least of his politics, she owed him that. So wearing it here, one the eve of the first actual planetary invasion of her life, was an honour to him.

She wondered how he was. She also wondered exactly how many Sith Lords and Ladies had beach bodies (and yes, she is that offensively vain) under all that armour, and tried not to think about dark side corruption.

Maybe she’d meet someone distracting. If not, she could always people watch.

 

[H3xle]

Whenever Master smiled, it made Thune uneasy. Happy was a fairly foreign concept to his master, and Thune never knew what to make of it.

It had been many years since he had chosen to leave his fathers wandering ways and join his master full time in support of the Sith Empire. The lessons during that time had evolved from the philosophical bantering of Thune's younger years to training his mind, body, and soul to delve into the mysteries that lay within the dark side of the force. Often that meant the more passionate emotions were brought to bear in his lessons, and he was to master them so as not to be mastered by them. His body bore the scars of these exercises, though he had never once thought of leaving his masters tutelage.

Still, it was Masters smile that made him uneasy.

"Thune." Master said as he approached. He wore a smile that bellied the yellow schlera of his eyes. The tropical patterned shirt he wore oddly matched his eyes, and seemed less out of place than the smile. He was unused to Master being in anything other than the typical robes. "You will be on your own today, I will be in a...conclave. You aren't welcome." Master walked past Thune, and finished his statement over his shoulder. "Do not squander my kindness."

Thune watched his master walk away, a war of intentions being fought within his mind. Did he follow his master to find out what was going on? Did he take the unsought reprieve to relax? What would he do if he chose to relax?

Thune spent too much time thinking about it, and the prospect of following his master faded as the man walked into a large resort building across a promenade from the hotel they were staying in. He walked out of the lobby he'd been standing in, he'd come out of his room an hour earlier to take breakfast. He'd assumed his master would come out and begin their day of training as soon as he could. It was what had happened every day since Thune had joined him. This was the first time, however, that his master had taken Thune to a place where other Sith were.

Outside, the sun shone brightly in a beautiful sky. Thune noted it with pain, his eyes genetically more accustomed to darkness. He squinted in the far to bright light, and turned south on the promenade, looking around while he thought about what to do with his free time.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He turned, molten eyes glowing in the dim light.

"Sasha, a pleasure as always."

A droid carrying a tray of refreshments emerged from the shadows to offer the Lady Santhe her choice of fresh fruit and beverages, silently returning to the darkness once its function had been completed. Several seats had been arranged as well for the Lady to choose from, should she deign to retire standing on weary legs after so long. The Emperor, however, would remain standing throughout their entire interaction, towering over the smaller woman by a considerable margin.

"It's been a long time since you and I have spoken in private, Lady Santhe. Wasn't Tion the last time you and I saw each other face-to-face? Such a long time ago... The Empire cannot overstate how beneficial our partnership with the Hegemony has turned out to be, the Imperial Throne does not forget those who do it service."

[member="Sasha Santhe"]​

 

[Sasha Santhe]

"You've never had the pleasure." Has she used that one before? Probably. On Kaine? Also probably, but it was still a classic. "Nor do I think you ever will." Staring at [member="Darth Carnifex"] Sasha reached for a drink from the droid, never taking her eyes off of him. Everytime they met his appearance was changed, different from the last. Personally Sasha preferred him as a ghost, something less tangible and easier to ignore. Still this was the third Sith Empire, or Empire like organization in Sasha's lifetime to gain a large hegemony over the galaxy. Each of these nascent Empires fell and yet Sasha remained. How many old Sith were now dead? That old fool Velok, although he left behind a son aptly named [member="Velok the Younger"]. The butcher king survived today as well. There was something to that in Sasha's estimation.

She had to look up and crane her neck to see him, an unacceptable situation. With the force she collected the chairs making a pyramid with them and setting herself up at the top near eye level to the main. "There," she said with a wink, "Now I can hear all the platitudes better. The Tion Hegemony is indeed a feather in your bonnet, what wonders have cooperation brought. My dear emperor I expect more from you, barb your tongue! Force knows I can use a good diversion. The galaxy has become a boring and droll place."

Another chair rose up from the ground and Sasha positioned it next to the other so she could lay down at the elevated position. A queen lounging on a sofa, the image wasn't nearly as potent as it should have been, but she was comfortable. "Don't be a dullard, let me get you a drink... let me get you a whole fleet of drinks."

 

[Kassandra Zambrano]

Objective I: Try to Relax
Interacting With: [member="Zazrael Lux"]
Nearby: [member="Adrian Vandiir"]

It had been far too long since Kass had set foot on a beach, at least one that wasn't muddled with blood. Violence had a habit of following her like a pest, or she ended up falling into it. She had always been far too curious for her own good, even as a child. Even had dreams of just sailing out into a vast ocean, right into a storm to see what would happen.

Chaos was alluring to Kassandra, but she wasn't exactly adverse to peace either.

She had met far too many people who had gone insane from the former. Remaining within the eye of a storm for too long, never taking the time to step out and breathe in the fresh air. But there was also different kinds of chaos, ones that Kass avoided.

The casinos of Cantonica were the exact type of chaos that she didn't like. Far too packed and noisy for her tastes. She had arrived with [member="Darth Carnifex"], and while her father had specific reasons for being there, Kass didn't - outside of wanting to explore the beaches.

Even from this distance she could hear the casino's racket, opting to tune it out as she slowly walked the beach's length. Toes digging into warm sand as she walked, the cool air being her only companion. Kass stood out like a sore thumb, between her towering height and pale skin. She was dressed in her usual style, legs covered and a shirt that was devoid of any sleeves. Although both were of a much finer material than she had ever wore before.

It was something both her father and siblings had pushed for, given the wayward Zambrano intended to return for good this time. But Kass wasn't one to follow things to the final letter, she had a style and preferred to keep it.

Unfortunately her peaceful mood was spoiled when she caught sight of something familiar. Despite the various stands that were dotted around the beach, Kass' attention immediately snapped to the purple tent. There was no mistaking it's owner, as it was exact same one as last time.

Zazrael.

The last Kass had heard of him was from a message she had gotten one night, not too long ago. It had been after her arena victory on Luria, where she had revealed her identity. In reality she shouldn't have been surprised at the simple congratulations she had received from him, and now he was here...

She let out an annoyed grumble, walking directly towards the tent.

 

[The Amalgam]

Objective: 1 (leads to 4)

Post: 1

Wearing: Bikini. Boots.

Armed with: The Dark Side, Stunning looks, Skin Shears (Purple Double Bladed Lightsaber)

Rest.

Relaxation.

A vacation.

The Amalgam was unused to it. Unused to having a moment to herself. Her life had been spent in service to spreading the Dark Side, to corrupting others so that they might finally be beautiful.

It was not the sort of occupation that left much room for a personal life. At least, not one that wasn't confined to her ship.

But her encounter with her own reflection had badly shaken her. So much so that when she had next murdered a Jedi, she had not derived as much pleasure as she usually did from tearing away their life energy. It was all very disconcerting, really.

So after sulking in her room, lonely and with no one to talk to except Uri's photos, the Amalgam finally decided it was time for a long overdue decompression. Even the the truest servants of the Dark side, many far more worthy than she, had their little bits of me-time. Even Palpatine had not been immune to the occasional idleness, and he had embodied everything great about the Sith, everything that made the Dark Side stronger than the light. (Albeit undone by momentary short-sightedness and arrogance.)

If even one like Sidious got a moments rest, why shouldn't she? With that in mind, the shapeshifter had piloted her phantom class yacht to Cantonica, one of the newer acquisitions. The decree banning the Jedi religion, and anything light-sided, made it more important than ever to turn Uri before some other Sith located her. Personally, the Amalgam felt the ban was an unwise decree: The Jedi had tried to ban all study of the Dark Side, and look how that had worked out. The Sith were trying the same ham-fisted approach. The Amalgam was certain it could only back fire on them in the end.

If you ban something out of fiat, it only makes those already doing what you ban double down, dig in their heels. The Amalgam wanted to crush the light forever, as any true servant of the Bogan did, but knew it would have to be with the carrot, not the stick. Seducing a lightsider was far more effective than forcing them to the Darkness in the long run. Those like Uri, however, only would embrace it the hard way, kicking and screaming as the last of the light died in them.

The Amalgam caught herself as she landed on a resort docking pad, and stopped perturbed at how easily her thoughts returned to her...daughter...

It was a purely one-sided notion, she knew as she left the cockpit, half considering just using her resistance epidermis and kicking it...she could certainly turn heads enough wearing that number.

But she had come here unofficially, and actually, genuinely didn't want to go to the beach wearing what was basically her work clothes, even if she did turn heads wearing that catsuit.

Instead, she went back to her quarters, removed it and then had to genuinely search for something eye-catching in her wardrobe. It was difficult...she was quite simply not a vacation person.

Finally she found something from a recent assignment, that had required her to go and assassinate a Republic millionaire with a taste for beautiful women. She had gotten him hook, line, and sinker when she had turned up at his house party wearing it.

It was a red sling bikini with matching black knee high boots, completed by a long, white collar. She tried it on, having laundered it after the mission, not understanding why she had kept it until now.

She checked herself out in the mirror, not quite certain her look was complete. She concentrated a moment and the hair on her scalp rearranged itself, lengthening and her dead purple eyes went golden sulphur.

Not stupid enough to go unarmed anywhere, The Amalgam took her lightsaber, twisted it into its seperate by still functional halves and the muscles and bones in her arm re-arranged as a cavity opened on each arm, and she carefully placed both blades in the recesses.

Striding off her ship, she flicked her hair back and headed to the beach, stopping nearly every man she walked by cold at her beauty and even a few women as she walked to the beach, suppressing a shudder as Uri's green eyes haunted her from the back of her skull.

Too distracted by her conflict with Uri, in spite of trying to relax, The Amalgam didn't notice a figure in the shadows of Cantonica's boardwalk observing her...and then following...

The Amalgam, meanwhile had already found a good spot to watch the water from, trying to use it to distract herself.

Uri's green eyes stared within, unblinking...

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective IV: BYOO - Purchasing Dragon's Breath

It had been a project that had, unfortunately, fallen by the wayside for the Lady of Secrets during her time with the New Jedi Order. She and another Jedi had been on an assignment to end the dragon's breath trade on Maramere, and during the course of that mission, she had hoped to obtain a sample of the potent weapon for Aurora Industries to study. That hadn't worked out as her Jedi partner had done the usual Jedi tactics of destroying everything.

But someone had restarted the lucrative trade, and the Lady of Secrets had arranged a meeting to acquire a sample at the casino of Canto Bight. She had no interest in the vacationing or gambling going on around her. She was here to engage in Canto Bight's other past time: weapons dealing.

It wouldn't exactly be a public project for the company, but she had several of her scientists on Nar Shaddaa eager to work on the Trihexalon project. Now, if only that Neimodian would show up and she could stop listening to the drunk Houk two tables down try to flirt with anything that walked past them.

 

[H3xle]

Half blind from the paradisal light, Thune walked more with his force senses than by sight. He was a rather large creature, and the horns upon his head gave him a demonic look to many cultures. Those who did not part their ways for the slow moving, half blind giant were brushed past without a second thought.

Without even thinking about it, Thune's senses locked onto a low pulsing sensation within the force. A place where the currents of the dark side eddied slightly for no outwardly apparent reason. This pool of dark side drew him in, ever closer as he walked. He pushed through people on the promenade, then made a sudden turn to the south, off of the promenade and away from the glitzier tourist destinations. On he walked, and the neighborhoods around him grew from tourist traps to local businesses, then to local housing and tenements.

Thune turned once again, entering a fenced off area through a large hole that had been torn through the fence. Then he entered the building, and his eyesight cleared up. He closed his eyes, now fully cognizant that he was following something that called to him in the force. He walked through the closed off building, then down a flight of stairs. Around the lower level of the building, then through a door that had been ripped violently off of it's hinges and down a longer, steeper flight of stairs.

By now darkness had encircled him, though his eyes remained closed. His horns scraped along the ceiling of the stairwell, causing vibrations to thrum down through his bones. The rough hewn ceiling caused the vibrations to almost sing through his bones as he moved, oddly helping to center him more in the force as he drew down beneath the surface.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"I am quite pleased with my current refreshment, Lady Santhe."

If the Emperor was annoyed or put off by the younger woman's antics of chair manipulation and coy speech, he did not show it. Rather, his face remained primarily impassive save when it uncharacteristically broke into a thin smile, though his eyes shone as dangerously as ever no matter what expression was made. Scratching absently at his beard, though more due to the reflex of habit than actual physical irritation, the Emperor turned his gaze back to the grand window overlooking the Casino floor.

"Tell me, old friend. What do you think of my Empire? It has been a long time since we fought and clawed our way out of the crucible, destroying all challengers and claimants in the process. With no immediate threats we have begun to settle, and I fear that complacency may yet rear its ugly head with nothing else to battle."

Conflict was the purpose of the Force, for without it there would be no evolution and no progress. Only stagnation and death. The same would befall any intergalactic government that found itself without challenge, such as the ancient Galactic Republic found itself once the Sith Wars had ended almost two thousand years ago.

He loathed to let his own people suffer the same fate.

[member="Sasha Santhe"]​

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Cantonica

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Objective II
The Beach

Taeli had gone off to do something more official, and FIolette had decided to find a spot out on the beach. Lounge chair set, umbrella set, a lovely outfit that her beloved most certainly approved of and the latest issue of Hyperdrive a Starship magazine. To be honest she had a stack of magazines to catch up on and as the waiter brought out her Cantonican Cactus Sunrise she was all set to sit back and relax. Honestly what more could she want in the moment? She'd prefer it if her beloved were there but minor details she supposed while taking a small sip of the drink. Packed quite a punch for such a frilly name, Fiolette smacked her lips together and savored the flavor. It was a dangerous combination of sweet and alcoholic, and so she set her drink down and continued reading.

The sounds of youth did not escape her though, yachts, skiis of various sorts crossing the water and the shrills of play added to the atmosphere. Her eyes remained on her magazine as she flipped through its pages reading through the profiles of up and coming shipwrights. Few stood out to her as worthy investments, the rest were just terrible and she often wondered how it is that they went about their lives. Another turn of the page as the articled finished off featuring a man in the Confederacy. The next page featured Corellian designs and for a moment Fiolette thought of her own youth, when the idea of traveling about the galaxy in something like the Milleniuum Falcon seemed so romantic. Her thoughts then turned to her own Imperial Falcons the Bolt-class that could use a few updates now that she thought about it. She placed the magazine beside her drink and reached down into the beach bag she had brought. From there she withdrew a tablet and a stylus and there she started jotting down ideas and notes for future ship designs.

 

[Lark]

Location: Wandering from the casino to the beach

Lark poured himself another drink, a dark red wine that originated from some vineyard not to far away. A local flavor, so claimed the shifty bartender. It wasn't horrible, although it was a bit tart, not nearly as sweet as Lark would've liked, but he could appreciate it nonetheless. He wasn't sure how many glasses he had drank, it was well above what he normally consumed. But that was alright, he had far more tolerance than he deserved. He was still thinking clearly, he needed to be sure not drunk enough to where he might begin making a fool of himself. But even when intoxicated, Lark liked to believe that he could operate as efficiently as he could sober.

He walked through the casino, continuing to converse and laugh with several other patrons. But there was so much more to this place than the casino, might as well do a bit exploring. Lark gathered all of the credits he had won, and began walking towards the artificial beach he had heard of from dealers and seen on signs throughout the club. He had always quite enjoyed the beach, the rhythmic crashes of waves always soothed his mind.

In the passageway from the casino to the beach was a small crowd of people that had been kicked out for either gambling to much or not having enough chips to continue playing. They begged the bouncers for a few chips to keep playing, claiming this was the only way they could pay for their family's dinner, crying all sorts of sob stories. More likely was that they needed money to feed some sort of addiction. Farther away from this horde of beggars was a lone woman, sitting by herself, as still as stone. She was horrendously skeletal, with dark pits under her haunted eyes. Lark walked over towards her, glass of wine still in hand. He bent down, if she was aware of his presence she didn't show it. Lark reached down into his pocket, and pulled out a small handful of credits. A bit of charity, sure. But money wasn't an object to him. Lark had little use for material goods. He offered the money to her with on outstretched hand.

"Here, buy your drugs with this."

The woman looked up slowly, pitifully frail. She took the money uncertainly, and as Lark turned away to the beach, he could feel her gaze on him.

After another minute of walking, he finally reached the beach he had heard so much about. He wasn't dressed for the occasion, but he had packed proper beach attire away in the of chance he decided to get in the tranquil blue waves. Lark took his shoes off, walking in the cool sand that his skin somehow managed to be more pale than. A gentle wind brushed his ruby-colored hair back behind him, and he basked in the feeling of peace the whole place provided. Yes, the beach was artificial. But so were most sensations of harmony and quiet.

It was a nice change from the bustle and madness of the casino. There were still plenty of people, but here Lark was able to pay them no mind. Instead he took another sip of his wine, and gazed out at the delusive horizon.

 

[Elani Zambrano]

Objective IV

Doors to a run down old shed swung open violently as two thugs were dragging a lithe female indoors. A bag covered her head, hiding her face from others while blocking her sight to keep her from knowing of her whereabouts. The girl wore rather tattered clothing. It had a look of being something elegant once, but no more. The thugs threw the girl in a chair in the center of the room and restrained her hands and feet before removing the bag. Beneath the bag was the face of Elani Zambrano, daughter of the Emperor. She seemed unconscious at the time the bag was removed.

"Wakey, wakey, princess." taunted one of the thugs. "Time to get up. Wake up, you little chit!"

Elani's eyes slowly opened up as she was in a daze upon awakening. Once her vision cleared up, she looked upon her captors. She tried standing but then realized she was restrained. "What is this? Who are you? Where the hell am I?"

"You're our meal ticket, princess. You gonna make us a pretty shiny chit when your father realizes you're missing. Any idea how much one can get for turning in the Emperor's missing daughter?"

"I've an idea, yeah. Your heads on spikes!"

"Tsk. I suggest you get comfortable princess. You're gonna be here a while. Raki, you take first watch. I'm gonna go grab something to eat."

"You got it, Frank."

One of the thugs stepped out of the shed while the other took a seat in a chair in the corner. Their faces were covered in masks, but Elani was able to at least tell what they were. The one who left was a human while the one who remained was a twi'lek. Elani had not heard their voices before, nor did she have any idea what gave her captors the stones to take her hostage. Maybe they did not know the woman they were messing with. Either way, Elani needed to find her way out of the mess she was in. Fast.

 

[The Amalgam]

Objective: 1 (Leads to 4)

Post: 2


The Amalgam stared at the waters, not bothered by the cold. Being effectively naked out here was a new experience...she hadn't gone this unprotected in a long while. It was strange, feeling this vulnerable for the vile creature...

Uri Udinia fought like a demon in the darkness, raining blows on the faceless, deformed monster from all sides.

She had rejected her. Utterly. Rage surged in the monster towards its would-be child. Foolish girl! It had been trying to enlighten her! But she was in such pain, struggling against the False Persona that had forcibly taken control. She couldn't word the argument properly. Only blindly reach out to the only one she had really paid attention to in her forced slumber, unable to shape its own inherent insanity to something more palatable to its heir.

Uri's strange saber cane, which emitted two green shoto blades, one at a strange angle coming from the tip of its handle, the other from the very bottom of the cane shaft, giving it an almost pick-axe like appearance. And Uri was swinging it like a club in a frenzy of aggression...

The Monster repelled the attacks with a single red blade, stolen from the arsenal above, and while it was no slouch at Niman, single bladed combat had never been its strongest selling point.

...and the deformed monster found itself rapidly losing the strength to stay emerged...it wasn't even sure what the point of fighting her was.

The False Persona came back with a vengeance, and the monster's body painfully erupted in lightning, bright purple arcs of it flowing over malformed skin the color of rotting drywall, perhaps knocking Uri out.

It screamed as it watched from within, this trap of its own making rendering her only able to stare out its eyes, paralyzed within and screaming uselessly for this hated lie she had crafted to go to oblivion as all the other lies it had created to walk among the Ashla lovers had.

But it couldn't. And it did not understand why, and while submerged, was little more than a subconscious in its own body, now reconfigured back to its false state. It felt the Lie's worry, its guilt...its dawning realization that those times it had blacked out and woke up elsewhere were more than just some neurological disorder...

Panic and guilt dominated the Lie. Panic and guilt too strong to overcome as she watched with the Lie's eyes stare at her hands and then at the unconscious, wounded Uri...

For the first time, as it stared through the Lie's eyes, a muddied, unfamiliar sensation quite foreign to its vicious sensibilities flooded the now only partly awake beast submerged in its own skin...

...doubt.

Looking at Uri, it felt doubt...and a question...

What was the point--?



The Amalgam blinked away that memory and Uri's eyes once more.

Insight came at the wrong moment from recalling all that.

Her time submerged had been a time of genuine happiness...that was why she had found it so hard to wake.

But did her ability to 'stay awake' now mean she was no longer happy?

Happiness had never been a factor in the Shi'ido's deadly work. At least, not a primary one. Sure, she took pleasure gutting Jedi, and Ashla lovers, though if she could have swayed all those people to the darkness that she had failed to enlighten by tearing her own arm off she would have. She had always been of the belief she was genuinely helping when someone was converted because of her. Happiness had never been a true factor.

So why was she so focused on it now?

The shapeshifter took a step closer to the water, staring into the reflection as the black boots were hit by waves, drops of water splashing on what could be at times hideously malleable skin on her bare thighs. She stared at the others wandering the beach, wondering what made their lives so worth living without the Bogan to enlighten them. To provide context. What did other Dark Adepts get from life that she did not?

She looked around, staring at all the luxury, how utterly empty it all seemed to her.

What was the point? The point to all the gaudy things she had seen just coming here that she would have killed in her youth to obtain even the tiniest fragment of, to squirrel away in those pathetic shacks she had made a home of in the Underworks?

How meaningless it all seemed, from one angle. Wealth communicated power, or rather, with power, so one was never very far from the other. Except in her case. The Amalgam eschewed wealth in favor of her mission as an evangelist of the Bogan.

But what had the evangelist to show for all that hard work? A dent, perhaps.

The traitorous, doubting thought escaped from within.

Uri was the smart one. Uri knew when enough was enough.

She suppressed it. Tore away at the thought. But since her encounter with her own Reflection in that alchemized chamber, she felt a gnawing sense of dread at its words. But she didn't fool herself into thinking she hated Uri any longer. (Though her obsession still was a rather violent one.)

She was still angry though. Angry that she had been rejected, despite the irrationality of such a position.

And angrier at having been happy, and realizing it.

Too distracted still to sense she was being tailed, the Amalgam began to stroll the beach, trying to enjoy her pointless interlude before going back to the slog of endless killing and torment, her currently long black hair billowing in the beach breeze as the scantily clad, petite shapeshifter strolled the beach, hands behind her back, kicking a pebble. She thought of ordering something from one of the beach food stands but remembered she had left her wallet on her ship and swore a little. Such was the nature of her life...she thought to bring weapons before money, inherently despising it after having coveted it so in youth...

The Amalgam swore a little more when she realized she was now getting cold thanks to this bikini. How did other women do this without freezing their hide off? Or did they just grin and bare it?

The Amalgam may have been willing to bare it, but between reflecting on how much she had failed to win Uri and her sudden emptiness she was sure as hell not about to start grinning...

Her tail, meanwhile, began to get closer, hiding in the crowds...

 

[AMCO]

Objective I: Epitomise decadence.
Nearby: [member="Zazrael Lux"], [member="Kassandra Zambrano"], et al.
Post Number II[SIZE=10.5pt][/SIZE]

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Sliding away from the bar with predatory grace, Adrian navigated the crowd with the ease of experience. He was, quite frankly, a terrible warrior. That mattered little, however, because this was his battleground. The gala, the boardroom, and yes, the beach. His was not the way of the blade, but the way of the well-timed word. Sure, sometimes throats had to be slit, witnesses silenced, and settlements vaporized. That was what grunts were for. Soon, the grunts would head off to war, and many would no doubt perish. His kind, however, would remain quite safe; the schemers, the middlemen, the puppeteers.

She was quite the specimen, this one. Her species was unknown to him, but he had never been one to shy from new experiences. As he made his approach, however, he suddenly became aware of a very different woman. He could only see her back, but she was evidently very muscular and very tall. Absurdly tall. There was something familiar about her. She reminded him of... a very particular Zambrano. A Zambrano that might just want to snap his spine, given the dishonourable methods he had used to defeat her when last they had met. A Zambrano that almost certainly could do just that, and was well placed enough that she'd probably get away with it.

No need to take any chances.

Sliding up his target, he began to play his game, to speak his well-chosen words, and to subtly exert his will. Even so, much of his attention was focused on the new variable. If it truly was her, then he would be wise to avoid drawing attention to himself. Just in case. If it wasn't... well, there weren't that many Epicanthix around. Many of them held positions of power or knew someone that did. It might be an angle worth pursuing, even if he had come in pursuit of pleasure, not power.

Then again, were the two really so different, to one of the Sith?