Gone to the Sea (Silara)

[Mr. OOC]

When he'd left Coruscant years ago he hadn't been sure if he would ever return to the world. With everything that had happened, he hadn't truly seen a reason to come back, but over time he'd found that he held within him a growing sickness. That sickness was the desire to see his home again, to see the place that had become home, to see his mother. So the Harrow made a return journey to whence it came, bearing him back to the place of his greatest pain, greatest sadness, and greatest triumph. He descended on the capital of the One Sith, oblivious to what might come of his arrival.

After landing, Meric left the relative safety of the vessel and made his way deep within the planet. He chose to see his mother first because that held both pain and happiness at the same time. The other two places were extremes for him and he didn't want to see them without getting a mix of both. Because he was a Sith, he chose not to hide his presence. It didn't bother him for other Sith to know he was there, even if he didn't follow along with them.

When he arrived at the Great Western Sea, he approached a boulder that had been placed on the shoreline intentionally. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it, except that he'd placed it there himself, after the death of his mother. He approached the boulder and stepped up onto it. The sun was halfway down, signalling that soon it would be nightfall, which was his favorite time to be at the Sea. That being the case, he decided that he would wait around to see the sunset at the place where he'd emptied his mothers urn. She had gone to the sea, just as she'd always wanted to do.

"I hope you rest well, Mother. May I do you justice."

[member="Darth Vitium"]

 

[Ellie Mors]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59X8R1NAc48[/media]​

It had long been her past-time to sit along the shore in meditation, to be both on the border of the order and rigidity of the land as well as the chaos of the open sea, much like the polarity that she displayed outwardly and inwardly, so broken within and so whole without, that when the approach of what appeared to be a trickle of darkness in her sea of emptiness she did not stir, simply remaining still without regard for the other presence in the force - paying close attention as she awoke from her meditative trance. In the past several months she had gone from an absolute nobody, a mere noble in an outlying empire known simply by the moniker of the "Shadow Empire", to a Sith Lord and Voice of the Dark Lord of the One Sith himself. Whereas this man had so pathetically came to pay his respects to a dead mother, one whom he apparently mourned, she had killed her own mother and bathed in her blood during the woman's death throes. There was no mercy in her, not for family, and most certainly not for enemies, what she witness, what she heard, was absolutely disgusting. It was warm, it was touching, and most of all it was fraught with weakness. To expose oneself so openly, to declare such far-fetched ideas such as justice for another of all things, and then to wear the black shroud of the dark side like another layer of clothing was far beyond insulting to a dark sider, much less to the most devout of its obsessive teachings.

'How sad, so terribly pathetic and crude. If only he had known me when he was younger, perhaps things for this man would be different - perhaps he could have amounted to something far more than a mere dark sider, to something more than one touched by the dark side.' The Sith Lord said in thought, her eyes slowly opening as she began to rise from her little perch to expose her position beside a tree. As always the woman was dressed in her black glistaweb attire, protective clothing that was all but forced upon her now that she lived as the controlling factor within the first sector of the One Sith's vision of the galaxy. Although she did not hide her presence in the force, simply allowing her stain of darkness to be visible for all to see, Silara was most certainly not a rash individual, and saw opportunity wherever it hid, whether that be in plain sight as it was now. So she approached in much the same way she approached most that caught her fancy, slow and deliberated, her eyes hardly even half-open, with a smile that could turn heads. "Why hello there." She quietly whispered, her words likely only reaching his ears through the same method of telepathy she used almost subliminally when speaking due to the softness of her voice in most situations. "Is something the matter?" She added, her head tilting somewhat to the side and quickly allowed her smile to shrink into a curious "o" shape with her brow upturned. If there was something the blonde was terribly good at when the idea of combat was far removed, it was acting as any "innocent" blonde socialite would, flirtation and all. That wasn't to say that she had hid the fact that she wore two lightsabers on either side of her hips, but the fact that her status as the newest addition to the five Voices of the Dark Lord was not yet public knowledge, and that she was still a relative nobody due to her lack of show-off behavior in skirmishes and invasions of other worlds, likely would aid in keeping her projected image all the more real.

[member="Meric Nadun"]

 

[Mr. OOC]

Of course he'd been aware of her presence. There were many Sith upon this world. More, it seemed, than there had ever been Jedi when he was younger. Coruscant changed hands fairly regularly, it would seem, and over the years he'd lost track of numbers, paying more attention to strength than total count. As it was, he felt a great amount of strength from this woman, but that didn't bother him. He remained calm and cool as she approached him, his eyes watching the distant horizon as he waited for the sunset that he craved to see again. Something about the way the light touched the horizon, pervading the visual sense with a daring blaze of colors, always spoke to him.

But now it was this woman speaking to him, in words that felt wrong. More than that there was a subtle telling of mental prowess purveying the words to him as well. This woman was a practiced Sith diplomat unless he missed his mark. She wanted her words heard even if he could not physically hear them. He could, but she wouldn't know that before he responded. She was clever.

"Something is always the matter in this galaxy, Lordess."

He did not know her name, but the imminence he felt from her was enough to tell him not to take this woman lightly. Not that he was particularly looking for a confrontation. This trip was about nostalgia more than it was about his efforts to destroy the One Sith. Having not yet made a move against them, they had no reason to suspect him of actually gunning for them either. He was merely another tainted with the blood of the dark side, though truthfully his heart was full of things that would make most Sith laught at him. Not that he particularly cared. To be Sith was to crave power, and he certainly did that. Just as he wanted to take that power and spill the blood of the One Sith. That was what it meant to be Sith.

"But at the moment, I simply pay respects to the woman who birthed me, and then was killed by the rulers of this world after all the trouble she went through to see me live."

[member="Darth Vitium"]