Faction Frozen in Time || Sith Order

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Irina Jesart | Ellissanthia

The presence arrived before the sound of steps.

Heat pressed outward as Gerwald crossed the threshold of the courtyard, the cold retreating in subtle measure as he approached the ring of fire Irina had raised. His gaze took in the scene in a single pass. Aerik on the ground. Irina braced behind him. The Undine at his side with her hand at his neck. Melted snow pooling dark against stone.

He did not slow.

The fire bent as he stepped through it, not resisting, not feeding, simply giving way. Kneeling came easily. One hand settled at Aerik’s shoulder. The other found his wrist. The contact was brief. Sufficient.

“Aerik.”

The name carried weight without volume.

The cold had gone too deep. The heat was helping but not enough. Not here.

“We are leaving.”

The words were not raised. They did not need to be.

Gerwald rose and lifted Aerik without ceremony, one arm behind his back, the other beneath his legs. The motion was controlled. Efficient. The weight did not slow him. Snow shifted underfoot as he turned, already moving away from the courtyard.

“Irina.”

A single word, timed to the step that followed.

“Come.”

His attention shifted briefly to the Undine.

“You as well.”

The path through the grounds opened without resistance. Guests moved aside instinctively. The music continued somewhere behind them, thinner now, muted by distance and stone. Frost crept back into the space they left, reclaiming the melted ground.

The ramp of the ship descended as they approached.

Warm air spilled outward, heavy with moisture and layered heat. It rolled across stone and snow alike, clinging to skin and fabric. The shift was immediate. The kind of warmth that did not shock. The kind that held.

Gerwald crossed the threshold without breaking stride.

The interior lights adjusted automatically, dimming as they sensed the temperature change. The scent of damp earth followed. Green and living. The terrarium lay ahead, glass walls fogged from within, the air dense with growth and heat meant for bodies not built for cold.

He carried Aerik inside and lowered him onto the prepared ground. Soil compressed under his weight. Leaves stirred as heat and breath met.

The ship sealed behind them.

“Stay with him.”

The instruction landed where it needed to.

Gerwald straightened and turned once more toward Ellissanthia.

“Do not interfere.”

Nothing more followed. Nothing needed to.

The warmth continued its work.

 

[Naniti]

Naniti smiled and leaned a little more into Lysander as he tried to discretely shield her from the wind. Nothing like an excuse for getting closer. Fortunately, with the Togruta's lekku up front there was nothing to keep his arm from drawing and keeping her near either. The lidded ease gave way to a widened gaze as her traced an arm with his thumb along her back. That was different.

A few slight movements and suddenly her eyes widened to saucers. Naniti drew her head back a bit just enough to turn and look over at Lysander. Surprise didn't give way to anger; the violet woman simply stared. His smile caused her eyes to shift side to side as she nestled back in closer again. It was difficult to sink back into that relaxing silence after that. There weren't even coherent thoughts to follow; uncertainty over what prompted and what she should do silently danced at the edge of thought.

Then he spoke, and with a swallow Naniti was able to focus on the moment again.

"I... Um, I'm only happy when I'm with you," Naniti said softly off to the side in response. With a soft cough, she looked back over at Lysander. "When I'm alone I go back to studying and training. I might even do more now to try and free up more time with you." A small, unsure smile graced her lips. "I just, well, I should say... I'm grateful when we can be together."

Slowly, she turned into the embrace so she could extend her other hand to reach around Lysnder's other side. They could get a little closer, right? No one was watching. It was cold. They were just trying to stay warm obviously. Yeah, that was it.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

His breathing slowed. It wasn’t just permissible; it was preferred. He liked how it sharpened his awareness of the Togruta in so many small ways, a quiet constellation of nothing more than presence. When she shifted, he didn’t follow or retreat.. he simply stayed, letting her decide the distance.

When she spoke, he fell silent, allowing her words to settle between them. Somehow, it made the world around them feel a little softer. They came in pieces rather than all at once. And it was far different from anything else at the academy. Most of the connections there required some kind of vigilance, constant awareness of balance, or leverage.. there were so many variables that could tilt when left unattended.

Moments like these, he didn’t have to catalogue everything, weigh the costs. With her, he didn’t wonder what it would require of him later. He didn’t have to prepare to correct something. He could simply.. be here.

“Naniti..”

Maybe the look they shared gave him just enough space to confirm the feeling inwardly. Then.. he could give it breath. “I’ve kind of learned to always be in motion. Always forced to prepare for what comes next. Power.. it has a way of dragging you off balance.” Lysander’s gaze lowered to the ground before them before biting his lip. Deep down, he was still a little worried that words spoken too soon might unravel this delicate thread.

“You.. interrupt that pattern,” he admitted. “When you’re near, I stop performing for its own sake.. you have a way of bringing me back to the center without ever asking me to be less than what I am.”

If there were ego in him, the crown of thought he wore dipped. “I’m.. grateful for you.”

A long exhale followed, entirely unsure how to reframe what was just spoken. With a sweep, the other arm wrapped behind her, fingers finding a resting place on her shoulder blade, to seal the embrace. Leaning in, his chin lowered, the murmur slipped free. “You have me.”

 

[Naniti]

Comfortably turned in toward Lysander, the Togruta lifted her eyes at the sound of her own name. What he said didn't disturb or upset the violet woman in his arms. It seemed to weigh on his thoughts, however. Probably a consequence of his own background and upbringing being outside of traditional Sith circles. A polite way of noting some Jedi influence in Lysander's background. She didn't hold it against him though, but it explained certain tendencies. Naniti wondered if he thought the same about her; but had they encountered a unique enough circumstance to prompt it? He was hardly a pacifist.

Curiously, he seemed to suggest she helped balance him mentally and emotionally. Did their time together bring balance? Naniti couldn't deny Lysander did seem different when they were alone. It wasn't merely being free to discuss things other Sith might question; his mannerisms changed. He didn't seem to try impressing her or putting on a brave face. Though she wished he'd open up a little more, it was moments like these that showed he was trying.

With his other arm secured with her person, the two of them embrace one another. "I don't want to let go, Lysander. If we had all the time in the galaxy, I wouldn't mind spending it here with just you." Maybe both of them had seen too many holos -- and maybe his Jedi background was a bad influence -- but Naniti really did enjoy feeling him against her with his arms about her. "Thank you... for bringing me here. For letting me know." They could have both kept quite any number of times to escape this moment. They hadn't, and there they were.

A smile spread across her lips as her blue eyes shone in the light. "And you have me."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Irina Jesart]

Tags: Ellissanthia Aerik Lechner Gerwald Lechner​

Ellissanthia’s correction earned her a glare. If there was one thing that Irina knew, it was that her fire would not harm Aerik, it never had. She felt a wave of something roll through her as the undine reached to touch his neck, it took every ounce of her control not to sear the flesh from her fingers for even thinking that she could just touch him. Her teeth bared momentarily, words forming on her lips to rebuke her when Aerik’s voice stopped her. She let out a breath of relief, the green fire within her withdrawing as her cheek coming came to rest on his head.

He was still not right, his breaths were slow, his movements sluggish. She felt his fingers curl into the fabric of her sleeve and placed a kiss atop his head.

“You don’t need to thank me.” she replied softly. “I will always have you.”

It was a tender moment, meant to be had away from prying eyes, but she needed to tell him, she needed him to know that he never had to thank her. Her fire ringer irises lifted once more to Ellissanthia, the softness that had been there a moment before falling back behind a well practiced mask as she heard the boots of her Master approaching, the fire parting for him as he stepped to them.

She said nothing as he lifted Aerik away from her, the sudden loss of his weight resting against her leaving a strange ache in her chest. She shoved it rapidly aside, rising to her feet as Gerwald called her name, snatching the velvet wrapped box from the floor that had been dropped in Aerik’s fall, she followed eyes widening as he summoned Ellissanthia to join them, but it was momentary and folded quickly back behind the mask.

She was quiet as they moved, her eyes on Aerik as his head rolled to rest against his fathers shoulder, the click of her heels ringing on the landing ramp, shoes that were kicked aside as it was clear where in the ship they were heading. The last thing she needed was to lose them in the soil. It was warm beneath her feet. She’d moved to Aerik’s side the moment Gerwald settled him down, kneeling beside him, setting the box aside.

“Yes Master.” Her response was unnecessary, but spoken out of habit.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

The landscape of Lysander’s mind momentarily arranged itself a little differently now; he wasn’t bracing or preparing for anything. A center held in place by choice rather than instinct. Sure, the storm remained, always somewhere in the shadows. but no longer demanded his attention. He couldn’t recall the last time he permitted himself this state. On Desevro, it would have been read as exposure, and exposure was never left unanswered there.

“I’ve spent years preparing to lose things.” A rueful breath left him. “Convincing myself it was necessary.. another lesson to endure. But this.. this feeling with you.. I don’t want to lose it. I want to keep it safe. Because it means something.” Instinct to protect hadn’t left him; here, it had softened into something gentler than the edge that was carried at Genarius. With one arm curved around her back, the other moved gently along her side in quiet worship; always careful to keep her lekku free, never venturing near those marks of the Togruta’s heritage.

Lysander’s eyes closed, breath deepening once, aware of what he was about to allow.

Slowly, one hand rose, and his fingers skimmed her cheek, committed to holding the warmth there. “I don’t take what you give me lightly, Naniti” said just above a whisper. The silence that stretched after proved more honest. “I don’t know how much time any of us are given. None of us do. But I can’t deny what this is, what we have. I need you to know.

Focus returned; the palm didn’t shift, even as heavier thoughts arose.

“There’s something else. Not tonight.. but soon. The Covenant is moving again.”

It had been only a day since the news was delivered, and there would have been other moments.. more fitting ones. But, standing here with her, they suddenly felt heavier. Obligation gnawed at the edges of his mind, which was all too common lately.

“I’ve been summoned to the Tapani Sector. They need eyes on Pelagon. For scouting..”

There was tightening in his throat as he swallowed, studying her face. “I didn’t want you to hear it secondhand, or after everything was already set in motion,” came another confession. “I won’t be far ahead of you.. and I don’t want there to be any doubt about where we stand.”

 

[Fatine von Ascania]

Fatine's confidence didn't waver even for a moment – not when the axe's trajectory flew better than she'd expected. If it didn't hit the target? She'd blame the wind. Or maybe the cold.

The axe struck wood with a satisfying thunk. Fatine's lips curled into an arrogant little smile, thoroughly pleased with her performance. "Of course," she drawled, tossing her mane of dark curls over a shoulder with a flick of her gloved hand. "I would've gotten a bullseye if you hadn't distracted me with all that Ly-sander talk."

Still, she grinned. Fatine wouldn't outright admit that she adored her older brother, but it was made apparent by the way she spoke of him. Siblings were always a nuisance, to a degree. But Lysander – he was probably her closest familial bond. Really, she looked up to him.

"Yeah, I heard he royally sucked out loud at the Name Day party," she snickered. "Figures, though. Too much blonde makes him kind of an airhead."

Through the banter, Fatine felt a genuine warmth seeping into her chest. After a lifetime of having to conduct herself in a very particular way at the lower courts, being with Ace felt...easy. There were no masks, no manners, no games. Just him. And her. Having fun, together. Not merely pretending to endure unpleasant company, as she'd been made to do so many times.

"Let's see what you can do," Fatine insisted as she gestured to the remaining axes buried in the frosty stump. "Maybe you'll even get a prize if you beat me."

Up went a pair of dark eyebrows as she looked to Acier, grinning, from the corner of her eye.

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: [Redacted]

Equipment:
Winter Outfit | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Ace let out a quiet laugh at the excuse she made, shaking his head as he reached for one of the remaining axes. Fatine didn't even need to make an excuse, it was a good shot. Genuinely.

"Riiiight." He said dryly. "'Cause I'm the one who definitely brought him up."

The corner of his mouth lifted as he rolled the weight of the axe in his palm, testing the balance. He spared her a sidelong glance, amusement clear in his eyes.

So, Fatine had indeed heard about Lysander's blunder on Ukatis. Which, made him wonder, was she there? Part of him lamented at the possibility. The ashen-haired teen would have liked to see her. If briefly. But, he quickly shook the thought. Fatine was here now, they both were, and he didn't plan on wasting a second.

At her mention of a prize, his brows lifted a fraction.

"Oh yeah?" He murmured, tone laced with mischief. "Didn't realize there were stakes."

Ace then stepped into position, boots settling into the snow. Last time he stepped up to the challenge, his first two throws were impressive, but the third...? No comment. Clearly he needed more practice, but he dreaded the thought of embarrassing himself in front of Fatine.

With a measured breath, he lined up the target and loosened his shoulders. Ace drew the axe back, eyes still flicking to her for half a second, smiling, before focusing forward and committing to the throw.

Fatine von Ascania ​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Tags: Lina Ovmar | Darth Strosius | Srina Talon
Outfit
Theme

​

At first, A'Mia merely nodded pleasantly, one could even mistake it for a reaction to the music. Lina might sense the way she was truly tuned in to her words though, and certainly the way she continued to lead them in tight circles on the dance floor was conducive to conversation. As Lina finished speaking, A'Mia reached up on a whim to tuck a strand of her loosed hair behind one ear.

She wasn't sure what compelled her, but she'd seen in done by others before and had picked up it was a gesture one does to someone whom you feel close with. Which A'Mia did, particularly after such thoughtful words were shared in what she could only assume was moment of vulnerability between them.

"Thank you, I think I understand. The sensations of camaraderie and kinship tend to allude me, but I seem to have stumbled upon both with you."

She smiled down at Lina, holding the moment between them a while longer before a change in tune caught her ear and she tilted her head In a rather bird-like motion.

"Oh I love this song," she chirped happily, readying to move with the faster tempo.

"One more dance before we find ourselves some drinks?"

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Tags: Madrona A’Mia Darth Strosius Srina Talon​

There was an honesty in A'Mia that Lina appreciated, she existed in her own way, there was no trace of deceit in her. That didn't mean that she wasn't hiding anything, for she most certainly was, but it wasn't with malicious, it was guarded. She let out a small hum, appreciating the touch as the neti's bark like fingers brushed aside a strand of stray hair from her face.

She held on a little tighter at her response, a brief moment of sadness crossing her chest, to not feel camaraderie or kinship...she wondered if A'Mia was lonely. She moved between multiple circles of people, Lina assumed not out of connection, but curiosity. "Well in that case, it would be a disservice not to spend more time together, would it not?"

Lina let herself get lost in those sea green eyes, enjoying the connection and gentle movement, settling into quiet contentment when the music shifted and A'Mia's head twitched picking it up, declaring another dance was in order. Lina laughed. "Very well, one more dance." She straightened just a little in readiness before the music took them, spinning them once more around the dance floor, dresses swaying and curling around them as they shifted with grace and wide smiles.

 

[Naniti]

Naniti gazed into Lysander's eyes as he spoke. He came from a place where he had things to lose, whereas the Togruta before him had gladly cast such aside when she had been found as a source of pain. Isolation was expected. Celebrated even among Traditionalists. You were a power unto yourself. But unlike the Lords and Ladies that prowled the shadows with unfathomable swagger, Naniti hadn't even yet been a proper Acolyte. Merely a prospective that might die at any second. Such seclusion from others had felt desired at the start, shut off from further pain, but the zeal of its pursuit had waned in time. Now it was merely a facet of life among those that betrayed one another for position and elevation.

And then Lysander came along. He'd been a curiosity at first. Someone that could help teach her to be a better fighter. Then he started showing her things that had nothing to do with being a weapon. He introduced her to the world of the powerful and wealthy, which had merely been an idea of what she might aspire to be years later. Suddenly she felt like there was more than grinding away at the books and in duels. They even spoke conversationally and freely without concern either would find a way to use what they shared to destroy the other.

It was... nice. The way he held her and looked at her was different than any other. Like only he really saw her. Naniti was more than a tool to him and having someone to go to and get away from the rest excited her.

Dark lips parted slightly at his touch.

Then there was a shift in his voice and the nature of what he spoke. There'd been a flicker of thought wondering why he was concerned with what time they might have together; once he said the Covenant was moving, however, she understood. The two of them, together, might be a refuge from the warrior's life, but they were still fighters. War would come in due time. There was always the chance one or both wouldn't return. That should concern her. Only... Naniti gave Lysander a small smile as she reached up to lay her hand atop his own. Only, she knew how to cheat.

Perhaps, later, she would have to delve into matters to find out the shape of things to come. Make sure Lysander needn't worry about his time being cut short any time soon.

"I won't tell a soul, but I'm glad I won't need to worry with you suddenly being unreachable. I might have stolen a ship to go search for you." Naniti chuckled softly at the thought. "And I'm not afraid, Lysander. I know we'll be together again afterward. We'll move all the heavens to make it true."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Fatine von Ascania]

"There are always stakes," Fatine informed him breezily. Despite their frigid surroundings, the pair might as well have been flirting around a warm summer's day.

When Acier stepped forward, she watched him closely. There was something so practiced about the stance he took, about the way he approached the target and lined up his shot. Fatine was fascinated. When his gaze flicked back to her – only for a moment – it was enough for the rhythm of her pulse to stutter.

As fate would have it, Acier did not embarrass himself in front of the young lady. His axe flew true enough, biting into the outer ring surrounding the center of the wooden target. Fatine squealed, clapping. "Wow! Okay, that was like, really astral," she gushed, bouncing over to him. "Maybe you could teach Lysander a thing or two about throwing stuff."

At the thought of her brother, Fatine rocked back on her feet and glanced subtly first to her left, then to her right. Good. Not a head of blonde hair in sight. She wasn't certain what Ace's relationship was with Lys was – friends, or something? – but the last thing she wanted was for her brother to get all protective.

"You've totally done this before," she observed while picking up another axe. Fortunately, some of the ice encasing the stump had melted well enough for her to yank one free with just a tug. "Do Mandalorians use axes a lot?"

Holding it by the handle, Fatine tested the weight of the axe in her hand before tossing it towards the target.

Acier Moonbound

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Thoughts that’d just been racing ahead to the campaign in the Tapani sector, suddenly tempered. Lysander found himself content to simply be.. right there, in what he would’ve considered a perfect moment. Likely something from one so accustomed to watching all the holos, but it didn’t really matter, for it was a more precious privacy not so easily found amidst the chaos of their lives. Whether it was one they’d chosen, or had chosen them.. it carried no burden.

When her hand rose to rest against his, only then did his thumb awaken; a tender glide across violet skin, guided purely by feeling.

The notion of Naniti hijacking a ship and disappearing into the stretch of hyperspace in pursuit of him wasn't entirely.. improbable. Disappearing without explanation which led to more creative solutions wasn’t entirely illogical.

Amusement danced across his visage. “I suppose one of the advantages of serving the Covenant is that if you did decide to steal a ship in my name, it wouldn’t be awkward to explain afterward.” A hush settled, without surrendering to its whimsy. “Absences are to be expected. Unscheduled departures.. maybe even more so. Command tends to treat such things less as misconduct and more as.. initiative. At least from what I've gathered.”

An unthinking tilt welcomed the space they shared. ”I wouldn’t leave you to wonder where I vanished. And I’d never be gone in a way that couldn’t be undone.”

Without probing much into the campaign’s scope, she did seem confident despite the less than perfect timing. But what truly mattered was their mutual understanding, and thankfully, he didn’t foresee needing to plan for some daring rescue.

“If we come back changed, what would you want to remain the same?”

The question landed heavier than expected. A soft hum sounded at the back of his throat.

“There’s no need to answer that. I suspect I asked it because I liked the idea of the answer.. not because I needed one.”

Lysander watched where the cliffs kissed the skies, where sparks of conversations twirled through his mind. But it wasn't long before his attention found its way back to Naniti.

“I did promise you we would dance. We never seem to have time.” A softer note followed. “There’s always something waiting to claim it. Now I find myself thinking we could change that.. here.”

He remained just as he was.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: [Redacted]

Equipment:
Winter Outfit | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Ace barely had time to process the impact before Fatine was clapping and bouncing toward him. The sound pulled a surprised snicker out of him, shoulders loosening as he turned to face her. He rubbed the back of his neck once, cheeks flushing, clearly not used to being celebrated like that.

"It was a lucky throw." He said, a little sheepish.

At the mention of teaching Lysander, his mouth curved again and he shook his head. Her follow-up question earned a brief glance down at the axe in her hands, then back to her face. For a moment, he forgot there was anything else demanding his attention.

"Mandalorians use whatever works." He said simply. "Axes, blades, blasters… doesn't really matter. Long as you can get value out of it." Then he paused for a moment, before adding: "I wouldn't be your 'go-to' on Mandalorian lore though. Only found out my brother was Mand'alor barely a year ago. Still learning about the culture."

He shifted just in time to watch her throw. The axe bit into the target closer to the center than before. Not perfect... but clean. Confident. Better.

"Nice. Now that's astral." He said, stepping closer to inspect the placement. "If acting doesn't work out. You ever consider professional axe thrower as a backup?"

His eyes flicked to hers carrying the same warmth they had whenever he found himself in proximity to Fatine. Ace summoned another axe into his palm, rotating it absent-mindedly.

"'Kay." Ace said, gesturing toward the target "You're closing the gap. I'm getting a little nervous."

Stepping back toward the line, and settled into position once more. Steadying his breath, Ace drew back and threw.

Fatine von Ascania ​

 

[Fatine von Ascania]

Fatine hummed. "Professional axe thrower," she drawled, testing the sound of it out. "I could probably join a traveling circus. Skinny arms and a deadly aim."

Really, her relative success had taken her by surprise. Axe throwing wasn't thought a suitable purist for a Ukatian noblewoman – at least by her father's estimation. Archery was marginally better, more suited to elegance than roughness.

"Wait-" Fatine tensed as a sudden realization hit her. "Wait- hold on-" Her eyes, grown wide, suddenly felt dry. Her blink was slow, and it hurt, but she turned toward Acier while his voice bounced around in his head. "Your brother is the Mand'alor? Like, THE Mand'alor??" Fatine blinked again, this time rapid. "As in, the leader of the Mandalorians? So does that make you...like...royalty?"

It had to, right? Or royalty adjacent? Something squirmed in Fatine's stomach for the revelation; and while it was excitement, there was an unexpected seed of dread burning there, too. After all, it hadn't been so long ago that she'd been pulled from the rubble in the wake of a Mandalorian attack on Ukatis.

Fatine knew of his ties to them, but had his brother been the one who'd ordered the assault? There were different sects of the helmeted warriors; it was hard to know which leader had razed her home. Absently, her gaze tightened on the young man in front of her as he lined up for his next strike.

Acier's axe veered sharply off course, missing the target entirely. It disappeared somewhere into the snow, and Fatine dissolved into laughter.

"Oh- oh, maker, that was awful!" she giggled while prancing her way over to Ace. "Did you even try? Or are you just trying to let me win?" Fatine's shoulders trembled as she snorted, reaching for her final axe.

"Say," she drawled, looking back to him with a twinkle in her lidded eyes. "Why don't you help me with this last one? If you're lucky, maybe some of my skill will rub off onto you." She winked for good measure.

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: [Redacted]

Equipment:
Winter Outfit | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Ace's grip tightened on the axe as he prepared to throw. His attention flicked to Fatine as she reacted to Aether being his brother. The next question followed quickly enough that he almost smiled at it.

"Royalty?" Ace huffed under his breath, shaking his head as he turned back toward the line. "Nah. Not how it works. And even if it did... I'm really not a fan of titles like that."

Then, as Ace threw - it hit him. Not words but something quieter, heavier, an undercurrent in Fatine's Thread that hadn't been there a moment ago. Excitement, sure, but through it… something else. Unease. Old fear, sharp-edged and real, brushing against him like a pulled wire. Was she... reacting to him?

The thought barely finished forming before the axe left his hand. It went wide and vanished into the snow unceremoniously... nowhere near the target. Ace stared at the empty space for half a second longer than necessary.

…Damn.

His jaw set, frustration flashing hot and brief. Not at the miss, but at the reason. At the possibility that his blood had shifted something between them before he'd even realized it.

But then Fatine laughed... bright. Unrestrained. Warm. The tension in his chest loosened all at once, breath slipping free as he turned toward her, one corner of his mouth already betraying him. At her teasing, he shrugged, easy again, falling back into the rhythm with her.

"You got in my head." He added, tone playful. "Dangerous."

After pulling out her final axe, she offered a suggestion - to help her - Ace paused, only for a moment. He stepped in close, not crowding her, just enough that the cold between them thinned. Ace took the axe from her gently, turned it once in his hands, then placed it back into her grip. His fingers lingered only long enough to make sure it was settled right.

He moved behind her after that, not to correct or guide. Just to be there. One hand came up, light at her wrist, grounding rather than directing. The other hovered near her shoulder, close enough that she'd feel the heat through layers. He adjusted her stance by degrees, a shift of weight, a quiet nudge, saying nothing at all.

The junkyard on Ukatis flashed in his mind briefly, and a warmth filled him again. Ace breathed out slowly, letting his presence do the work.

"Whenever you're ready." He murmured, the only instruction he gave.

Fatine von Ascania​

 

[Naniti]

Naniti snorted. Absences were expected? Well, Lysander certainly got away with his share, and they gave him ore responsibility for it, so she didn't doubt what he was saying. In the end, however, it didn't really matter. If Lysander suddenly vanished and Naniti had an inkling where, whether the instructors agreed or not she would find him. She was an exceptional tracker even between stars. It would still take time, but there was no doubt that she'd be on the trail fairly quickly.

She patted his chest with a smile. "I'll pity the Sith Lord that sends you on a secret mission and I end up in the middle of it regardless." Because they very well could send him on such a mission, and he wouldn't be allowed to tell Naniti. Maybe he still would. They didn't always follow the rules, right? Maybe he'd agree she couldn't know though. Whatever the case, he could trust the Togruta wouldn't overlook his absence.

Then he asked an interesting question. One he drew back just as quickly.

As Lysander's gaze turned to the landscape briefly, Naniti's attention remain on his face.

Soon as he was done talking, the Togruta reached up with both hands to take hold of his coat and pull his upper body down. Naniti stretched up at the same time to press her lips firmly against his own.

After a moment, she released him and stared up at Lysander defiantly. "That." There was no further elaboration on what 'That' was. Lysander should know precisely what 'That' was and not need an explanation. Because That was what she expected to remain the same.

Lysander would be fine. He'd survived worse -- or so she chose to believe knowing nothing of this new campaign. Still, one could never be completely certain. So, Naniti would give him a reason to make it back. Something more important and desirable than because a Sith Lord got a wild burr up their ass.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Whatever thoughts were marching through Lysander’s mind came to a halt as the Togruta grasped his jacket. Awareness returned with a quick jolt, pulling him back from drifting too far in his own head. He’d spent enough time around her now that she probably knew how often he was guilty of such things. But, before there was any time to overthink it, her dark lips were already there, and he found no reason to argue. A tiny breathy sound escaped him when his own parted on reflex.

This one carried a different spark than their first. And honestly? He found himself liking it just as much.

When Naniti leaned back, Lysander didn’t pull away either. Remaining close, one arm wrapped more snugly around her. A more curious lift of one brow followed right after, his chest rising once, deeper than normal.

The answer was already there.. somehow it usually was, when it came to her.

“That saves me a lot of unnecessary thinking,” murmured softly. “I think I understand things better when you don’t explain them.”

Words from earlier stayed with him. At least, what was beneath them. He knew the kind of Sith Lords she spoke of.

“You won’t be left guessing on anything, Naniti.”

A hand that had only just fallen away returned to her face. The pad of his thumb dragged along the bow of her upper lip, feeling the moisture left behind. Admittedly, he'd been curious about the plush of her mouth beneath his touch recently.. and now he knew. Then he followed it with a kiss of his own, flowing naturally from the previous embrace. Well, if the galaxy was set on tearing them apart soon, he refused to leave any room for doubt.

 

[Srina Talon]

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

____________________________________________________

Srina listened without interrupting.

It was her way, mostly, when someone was circling toward a truth they weren't ready for. Snow settled along her cloak, and the fragile flakes melted after a moment, darkening the fabric by degrees. She used the tree at her back as an anchor when the seemingly youthful Sith Lord questioned her. This moment was cold, solid, and real, among such an ephemeral atmosphere. This moment of peace…It was deception.

It was a lie.

"Aren't you?"

She watched the Sangnir go through the motions while allowing him the opportunity to see her face properly from beneath her hood. The white of her hair caught the light when she shifted, and the runes along her sleeves dulled as they drank in the worst of her presence. It had reached a point in which hiding was…Difficult. It should have been simple, really. In the same way that Darth Carnifex had his black tattoos, Srina should have been able to temper it. Contain it.

"…There are no chains on me…", she breathed at last, soft. It wasn't an attempt to contradict him but simply spoken. As if she were merely correcting a small, factual error. It was true that duty could be mistaken for restraints, that a crown could look identical to a cage. Her eyes remained steady on his visor…Still curious, from what she witnessed. "I am bound by…Decisions…."

"Moments."

It might have seemed confusing, a strange place to split hairs, but if he knew slavery as intimately as she did, he would realize that "chains" were never the word to use in her presence. Srina had never been held in bondage, but her connection to Empyrean hid nothing from her. She had experienced his pain, loss, degradation, and disappointment. Every lash, she knew. Every scar to Maliphant…She had documented. Calculated. Judged his pain, mostly, by the wounds no one would ever see. The most terrible of things, that never left a mark.

She noted the way his attention kept slipping despite himself, and her lips fell into an unfamiliar curve. Understanding, perhaps, with something that might have been amused recognition. How long had she run from her husband? How long had she tried to pretend that he held no sway over her, that nothing he did affected her? That his smile, cheeky and entirely irreverent, didn't move something in her frozen heart?

Darth Empyrean had been…Everything she wasn't.

Everything she could never be.

"Do you feel that it is a failing of discipline? This pull you feel toward them?"

Her words were probably a bomb, even though they were meant as a quiet offering. Her way of discussing intimacy held the same weight as someone discussing the weather…And it was how she had felt, at first. As if all her training and efforts to be the perfect soldier had been shattered in an instant. She'd felt…Exposed, raw, and there hadn't been anyone capable of understanding to tell her she wasn't losing her mind. Whatever it was…Attachment, curiosity, want…Perhaps an ember of forbidden affection. "We pretend that these things are weaknesses to justify our cruelty... We pretend that desire is a flaw rather than…Proof. That we are, to some degree, still alive."

Lord Haxim had been thought dead, perhaps, more than once. It shouldn't surprise him that something warm and living found him again. Few had the life that Madrona A’Mia emanated, and Lina Ovmar , if nothing else, was bursting was spirit. Her gaze drew back to the dancers…Knowing, from a logical standpoint, that they were attractive. She was just…Unable to fully appreciate them. Women were too soft, and they held no appeal for her, save for a fighting partner. "Do you know why they leave you off balance? It's because...Every meeting means that they see more of you... Not the symbol, the prophet, or the martyr…Not the problem, the Order does not know how to solve."

Her head tilted, drawing out of reminiscence, before turning her focus back on Darth Strosius at his suggestion of adopting some of his habits. A huff of air escaped her, a quiet breath that could have been mistaken for amusement. "I think I already share some of them…I am only…"

She paused. Thinking.

"Harder to ignore."

Mostly, because when her mind was set on something, she retained the quality that had always driven @Darth Metus up a wall. Srina Talon, more than anything, was a pain in the ass. She was stubborn and unrelenting to the point that it was almost offensive. It was only in her favor that most people didn't realize she was luring them to her perspective, silently, and without so much as lifting a finger. They came on their own. Moths to flame.

The cold thickened around them then, not hostile, not sharp—Just present. Srina lifted one pale hand, and her fingers relaxed as they drew through the air between them in a curious motion. It would look like she was brushing frost from glass while ice gathered slowly, obedient. She did not conjure it but coaxed it, condensation crystallizing, gaining solid form. A mask began to take shape, milk-pale, but it mirrored the contours of the one he wore. Familiar lines, familiar angles. It was obvious that it was supposed to be his…But there were subtle differences. Such as expression.

She raised it to her face, and it settled neatly, just opaque enough that it couldn't be seen through.

"…I am now you."

Her hand moved as if it were something fragile, rising over it, and the ice shifted with a soft sound that was reminiscent of a lake freezing over. The smile faded. The "mouth" area straightened. The eyes hollowed, touched with grief, rather than menace. Not monstrous…Just resting.

That same hand came down, and the mask smoothed, mirroring his perfectly.

"Clearly, my disguise is perfect."

It was in jest, as well, as Srina Talon could tell a joke. Maliphant had tried to teach her, but the lessons had ended when he died. Neither of them felt much like smiling after that. Her head tilted with the ice mask of Darth Strosius in a way that was almost innocent. He seemed to be speaking to her honestly, and she returned the favor, if only because it was deserved.

He hadn't yet called for her head, demanded that she bow, nor declared himself Emperor again.

That was something.

"My absence from your eyes is not a slight. You are not less, than."

Her head tilted the other way, eerie, because any part of her true countenance was hidden from view. It made it thrice as hard to read her. "It was an exercise in respecting a boundary."

A sigh—Whisper soft.

"I intended…To let you come to me."

 

[Naniti]

Naniti smiled as Lysander held her close after the kiss. Every display of affection was appreciated. Not to mention it was freezing and a little warmth also went a long way. Even her lips were getting cold now after the kiss! He'd better take responsibility for that.

The Togruta's brow drew in down the center as Lysander said he understood things better when she didn't explain them. The point of explaining them was to prevent misunderstandings! The big lummox.

As if on cue, Lysander reached up to brush the pad of his thumb over her lips. Sent a shiver down her back. Her blue eyes gazed up at him expectantly. It was just the two of them out there. No one to see. No critiques. Naniti smiled as his touch led to another kiss, and the Togruta leaned into his embrace. That was a nice show of his interest in returning with the qualities that'd brought the two of them together. And her arms tightened about his body to make sure it wasn't a brief showing either.

Lysander von Ascania