Faction Frozen in Time || Sith Order

[Fatine von Ascania]

There it was, that little hint of warmth bleeding through the cracks in his expression - just before Ace hardened his face into an unreadable mask.

Fatine beamed. She'd made it her personal, private mission to tease those moments of sincerity from him.

"Golden Boy?" She snorted through a peal of laughter. "Why's he called that? Because of his fancy hair?"

While her family hadn't been entirely defined by them, golden locks had become something of an Ascanian symbol. Fatine always styled her dark curls so they'd stood out as much as possible. "He's not the boss of me," she huffed. As it stood, no one really was. Her father was dead. Her older brothers were either playing soldier or Sith, and her elder sister was too preoccupied by whatever was going on in the Republic.

In being lonely, she'd found another stage. Acier, despite his quiet nature, made her feel seen.

The tests of skill felt just as frigid, but fortunately they weren't as eerie as the statues.

"I've been practicing, you know." Fatine clicked her tongue, the corners of her lips drawing up in a smug little smile. "I can - oooh, is that axe throwing?"

Far too gleeful for one surrounded by so many Sith, the young lady removed her hold on Ace's arm and pranced her way toward the collections small axes embedded into the face of a log. A series of targets had been placed further down the field.

Fatine wrapped her fingers around the handle of an axe, and tugged - then, she pulled with both hands. A grunt sounded from the back of her throat as she strained for a few moments, before relinquishing her grip and stumbling back.

"That's not faaaair," she pouted. A pointed glance was sent Ace's way, but it wasn't clear whether or not she'd been using her full strength.

Acier Moonbound

 

[Srina Talon]

Allies: Darth Strosius | Madrona A’Mia | Lina Ovmar
Location: Old Tree [Near Alisteri Holding Up a Pillar]

____________________________________________________

The bark at her back was rough, pale with frost, and a little itchy through the fabric of her clothing. The tree she leaned on was strong, even though it was barren for the winter, and she took solace beneath large branches and the quiet history that hummed from it. Srina had arrived, seemingly, from thin air—Hidden in its shadow. Her white cloak was drawn up around her shoulders, hood raised, yet not sealed. Long strands of white-gold hair slipped free, catching the ambient light, eye-catching, even though she very well might have blended in with the scenery.

Sith Runes were etched fine and deliberate with silvery alchemized thread along the seams of her clothing. They were sigils of occlusion, suppression, and quiet. They muted the storm that rolled in her being to a point that it was barely noticeable…But they didn't erase it. Couldn't. She had spent too much time wrapped within the corruption the Darkside provided, cultivating it, turning it into a strength none could touch or take. At best? She could make it seem like something else.

Less.

Jasmine and petrichor lingered in the air regardless, subtle, with the snowfall and her presence became a pressure that would eventually be picked up, likely, by one Alisteri Haxim. She was close enough to step away from her tall tree, reach around the pillar, and touch him, but he was entirely entranced by something in the distance. Srina's gaze moved first to Madrona A’Mia , then to Lina Ovmar , and then lastly, back toward the masked figure. She did not hurry. She rarely did.

Instead…She watched.

There was a geometry to the three of them now. Glances exchanged, posture changing, with an odd orbit that was fascinating. It was predictable, human, but the eternally youthful Darth Strosius had not given her the impression he was capable of forming this type of open attachment upon their last meeting. He had even been wrathful toward the man who saved his life. Srina knew he had a certain fondness, deep down, for his people …But felt like an anomaly.

Interesting.

Her weight shifted, and the tree creaked faintly, as if acknowledging her presence. She spoke without turning her head…Eyes focused on the two women who seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely at the much broodier Sith Lords' expense.

"I met Lady Revna this way….With a dance…"

It was a fond memory, oddly enough. Srina tended to loathe large parties because she was always expected to perform. Perfection was not enough. Even though Darth Empyrean had been one of the most feared men in the galaxy, still, she was bound by duty and protocol. Much of it she threw to the wayside, such as dancing openly with an apprentice of a faction that typically hated the crown and all that it stood for. But…It hadn't been about appeasing the Sepulchral.

The reality was much simpler than that.

Srina had seen Revna Marr through a sea of faces and had been taken in by her bravery. Everyone else looked down. Away, while she danced with the Corpse King. Revna watched, wide-eyed and curious. It was odd that it was such a rare thing in a bright mind. Curiosity. Untarnished and unburdened by a life that had failed her, by people that were surrounded by darkness so thick it was touchable. She knew…Alisteri Haxmin, likely, thought her to be a monster, despite their last meeting. His secrets kept.

He was right.

Her eyes eventually slid toward Darth Strosius again, pale and reflective from beneath a furred hood. She seemed so delicate, made of glass, and something equally fragile with a backdrop of snow, snow, and more snow. She didn't shiver in the cold; unknown to most, it was the chosen element of House Talon. The chill of winter…Just didn't bother her. Not outwardly, anyway.

"Won't you join them?"

 

[Naniti]

Naniti poked Lysander in the chest. "That's right, we do; so don't tell me to get clear and take on all the burden alone." There were several ways to look at what he'd said, but one that jumped out is he might be trying a bit too hard to protect her. The Togruta didn't want to be protected. Not at the cost of Lysander's life. That was precisely why she trained so hard -- enough that it was how they'd first met. On Edic Bar being told to go ahead and leave him to deal with that Cat woman... it'd been the only way to convince him to hurry. Someone had to haul the Chiss away, and if they waited until the Jedi was pacified to do so they wouldn't have made it to the ship. Didn't mean she'd liked it.

The poke turned into a smoothing of the front of his clothing. "What I think... is that I like being around you, Lysander. Even when we aren't fighting. So, if you run off on any adventures and there's room for one more, you will invite me." The demand softened slightly as she added in a softer tone, "Won't you?" Any excuse to get away with him sounded pleasant. The Academy's lackluster amenities didn't even matter at that point.

As the sleigh reached the peak, Naniti's blue eyes looked up at Lysander with expectation. Not because she wanted to fight more people or endure more trials, but because he'd be there and they could suffer through it together. They'd get stronger. Then tackle even more challenges. But they'd do it together. And really... that didn't sound so bad. As a Sith used to thinking of dealing with things alone. After all, if they grew stronger together than she'd still be stronger on her own; to fight and survive to get back to him. There was a certain sense to it.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: [Redacted]

Equipment:
Winter Outfit | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Ace huffed a quiet laugh at that, shaking his head once.

"Golden Boy." He repeated, like the name was self-explanatory. "Yeah. Kind of comes with being that guy at the Academy. Everyone watching. Everyone expecting him to be impressive."

His eyes flicked to her then, catching the way she brushed off his question so easily.

He's not the boss of me.

Something in Ace loosened at that. Relief. She said it without heat, without defiance. Just fact. She chose where she stood. Always had. It made him like her more than he probably should've.

Then he watched as she struggled with the axe. His lips pressed together, before stepping in. Ace reached past her, hand closing around the handle, and gave it a single, controlled pull. The blade came free with a sharp crack, ice and splinters scattering against the snow. He turned and offered it back to her, handle first.

"Here." He said lightly. "Didn't want it thinking it beat you."

His mouth curved as he nodded toward the targets downrange.

"I'm really hoping your throw's better than your brother's. Last time I saw him try this, he screwed up three in a row." He added, dry amusement threading his voice. "No pressure or anything."

She'd said she'd been practicing. Now was the time to put her credits where her mouth was. Although, he had no doubt in her.

Ace stepped aside, giving her a clear lane... and his full attention.

Fatine von Ascania​

 

[Irina Jesart]

Wearing: XXX
Tags: Aerik Lechner Ellissanthia​

Something was off, Irina couldn’t place her finger on what, but Aerik did not seem right. She had seen him rigid because their surroundings demanded a certain aspect of them be seen, but this stiffness was different, it was in the small movements, the roll of the shoulders, the tiny adjustment of his feet. Slowly, she approached her gaze snapping to the blue skinned creature as she bowed.

Distaste flickered across her face, whether it was because Ellissanthia had bowed, or because she was another brainwashed Kainite, Irina did not divulge, the momentary expression vanishing back behind a mask of cold indifference as she straightened, her words bordering on mindless devotion. Dark eyes ringed with fire looked Ellissanthia up and down, trying to find a polite response. “Irina Jesart, apprentice to Lord Lechner.”

Her gaze moved back to Aerik, softening slightly as it did. Whatever jealousy that had wound itself in the pit of her stomach diminished, she knew Aerik well enough to know that this creature would not attract his attention, certainly not with such a submissive demeanour.

“I just wanted to give you your gift seeing as our chances to see each other are few and far between, it seemed a waste to simply send it.” She extended the velvet wrapped box to him. “If you want my company, I’ll join you. Three heads are better than two, after all.”

Not that they needed three heads. Irina doubted there was any maze that existed that she and Aerik could not crack with ease, but for the sake of being polite…

 

[Darth Strosius]

​

Tags: Madrona A’Mia / Lina Ovmar / Srina Talon
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He idly felt His eye twitch at the scene as it played out before Him, crossing His arms in an attempt to appear nonchalant in spite of His inability to turn His gaze away from A'Mia and Lina's dance. The graceful lead into a quicker pace, it reminded Darth Strosius of when the Neti had managed to coerce Him into joining her on the dance floor. Lady Ovmar for her part kept up well as He knew that she would have, never one to be caught on the backfoot and certainly not so in such an activity.

When the dip occurred He realized that He'd been digging His gloved fingers into His arm throughout the whole display, finally noticing due to the sudden soreness where His fingers had been clenching against His arm. The masked man ground His fangs together as He clicked His tongue and did His best to ignore the unusual feeling swirling in His core at the sight of the pair together. He couldn't quite figure out a proper term for it anyway, simply chalking it up to unease. Unease that kept His gaze flickering between the two of them as they danced in all their glory.

Only a distinct and distantly familiar presence brushing against the back of His senses made Darth Strosius reluctantly glance around in order to find the source only to all but leap out of His skin whenever Lady Srina spoke from seemingly right next to Him. His head whipped around at a speed that shouldn't have been natural and regarded the Empress with a hidden expression of confusion and shock. How long had she been standing there? Why was she there instead of brushing elbows with some simpering sycophant? Or even worse, an obtuse tyrant?

Had she been sneaking up on Him? Had she seen His...distracted state? Had she seen what, who, He'd been distracted by? He didn't know any such answers and He was rather hesitant to know them in truth. It took a long moment for her remark to process in His mind, delayed by the slew of questions and surprise that had riddled His attention. "Yes, I recall." Darth Strosius also recalled having to sit Revna down to give her an extensive conversation about interacting with unknown variables and infamous individuals within the Sith Order.

As usual, she hadn't listened to His very wise and fitting advice of course.

The masked man stood up straighter when Lady Srina finally looked His way, crossing His arms behind His back and reigning in His "wings" from where they had flared in surprise into a barely visible state. He still couldn't discern anything written across her features, nor the look in her eyes. Which made her question all the more unforeseen and off-putting, with Him having to catch Himself from cocking His head to the side in confusion. So she had noticed. Chit.

Instead of pondering on the full implications of that anymore He nodded back towards the beautiful duo on the dance floor. "I get the impression that they'd be all too happy to rope me into some...shenanigans if I made my way towards them." Darth Strosius kept His tone level and clinical but He was being genuine, the Force only knew what those two were concocting even as they spoke. "I prefer to keep my senses sharp and free of...distractions at events such as these, just in case."

He chose not to elaborate on what it was that He was supposedly keeping Himself readied and watchful for. Rather He slowly casted a wary gaze back to the Empress, one that narrowed slightly as He spoke again. "If I may ask, why aren't you at the center of the festivities? I'm sure there's a Dark Councilor or a governor somewhere that is in dire need of your attention and time. Or, some that would claim such importance at least." His words were careful even in spite of the slight scorn that tinged them. He was testing the waters as it were. "What brings you to my perch instead?"

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander registered the poke. But it wasn’t an angry one. His head tipped while listening, attention narrowing, posture easing just a few more degrees. Of course, it was easy to find room for it, considering she didn’t name the habit, or paint it as arrogance. It could’ve also been framed as mistrust or even failure. She just named it.. with care.

Beneath the moment, the answer lingered, but his lips remained sealed. The squeeze he gave her hand next was to convey understanding. And then the other rose, enveloping hers where it lay near his heart, cradling long enough to feel the warmth of her violet skin beneath his palm. A thumb traced a path across two of her fingers.

“It's an instinct. I'm just so used to stepping forward first and taking the first hit. It's always been that way.. half the time I don't even realize I'm doing it until I'm already committed..”

A slow exhale, a small plume of breath fogging the space.

“But.. I can learn where it doesn't belong. Where it doesn't serve us.” His mouth curved then, just a little. “Blame Ukatis,” the words came softly. “Or my sister. I grew up on knightly fairytales.” He didn’t say how much he believed in them back then. Definitely didn’t say how much he still did.

When the Togruta’s deep blue eyes met his, Lysander refused to turn away. He'd seen them dance with challenge, humor, and defiance.. the same spark that caught his attention in the training yard on Desevro months ago. Now they drew him in a way impossible to ignore; only those could inspire clarity..

“There'll always be room for you." The decision was already made. “It’s not so complicated, you know. I like it when you’re there. I’m better when you’re beside me.”

A little quieter still.. “Because I like choosing you, Naniti.”

Saying it aloud felt better than keeping it tucked away in his head.

Their sleigh had been at a still for several seconds already. Pulling back, he slowly swung one leg over the rail, then the other, boots finding purchase on the snow. Even then, his touch lingered, for letting go required conscious effort. When he did release, it was gradual. The entire world opened before them. Pale cliffs fell far into the distance, frost caught like scattered stars. The vast sky above was clear.

Silence began to stretch.. but it wasn’t empty.