Private Hearth and Home

[Xerxes Verd]

The shuttle set down without ceremony. No crowds or banners. No waiting honor guard.

Xerxes Verd disembarked alone.

The ground beneath his boots felt different than he remembered firmer somehow, shaped by industry rather than survival alone. Mandalore had always been harsh, but this was a forged harshness now. Deliberate. Ordered. He paused at the bottom of the ramp, letting the wind roll over him, carrying dust and metal and the faint ozone of power grids pushed harder than they used to be.

Home, yet different.

He wore full armor, dark plates dulled by years of travel and battle rather than polish, fitted close to a tall, broad frame that had never needed exaggeration to command space. No helmet, though. Instead it was attached to his belt, tucked neatly away while he explored his home. His long stride slowed as he moved through the outskirts, hands relaxed at his sides, eyes lifting to trace skyline changes where new structures had risen where there had once been scars, old ruins rebuilt instead of erased.

People noticed him. They always did.

At six-four, broad-shouldered and built like something meant to endure any storm, he was hard to miss. Some recognized him immediately those who’d served, those who’d studied the charts he helped redraw. Others only felt the weight of him passing, the quiet gravity of someone who did not need to assert presence to possess it.

Xerxes stopped near a overlook where the land fell away into steel and stone. Ship traffic moved with purpose now. Coordinated. Efficient. Not frantic. He exhaled slowly.

“So this is what you made of it” he spoke quietly to the air, more observation than judgment.

His brother’s work was everywhere, even when Aether himself was not.

He turned, continuing deeper into the city, letting his boots learn the streets anew. He did not announce his return. There would be time for that for reports, reunions, explanations that never quite captured the dark between stars.

For now, he walked.

Measured what Mandalore had become while he was beyond the map and what it might yet need from him now that he had returned.

TAG: Viana Morreth

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[Viana Morreth]

Tags: Xerxes Verd
Wearing: [X]


So, this was where all of the Mandalorians had come to die…or not die. Be revived? Bolster themselves, reclaim their home, start wars? Whatever story or rumor that circled around the not so elusive armored warriors one chose to pursue, it all led to the same place. Mandalor was by no means impressive, at least not to someone who was used to living in more hostile environments. It was dry, dusty, and if it weren't for a smattering of Force-like protection lining the length of Viana's frame, she was fairly sure there would be elements of the planet finding their way into every nook and cranny of her person.

There was one thing for absolute certain; the planet had a dark history, and the taste of blood in the air still lingered from it's past. The echo of countless cries whispered along the dry wind, and it was laced with a haunting scent of smoke and blaster wounds. The imprint of the dead was etched deep into this planet.

A fact which made Viana realize she certainly knew how to pick snazzy vacation spots.

With a purposeful shake of the head to clear it, Viana made her way further into the depths of the city. The outskirts had been buzzing with historical energy, but here within the confines of new buildings, people, and traffic? That energy was dulled and diluted, and Vi wasn't sure if she was grateful for that or not. Whichever the case, it wasn't long before her feet were carrying her towards a random person within the depths of the crowd.

It was something she never questioned. When she was guided by something more potent than her own capabilities, she followed without question. This new destination seemed as if he was taking this all in for the first time as well, and yet he certainly looked as if he belonged here.

Without hesitation or a hitch in her foot falls, Vi found herself in stride with this large stranger. “Is this space taken? No? Lovely.” She did not wait for confirmation or refusal, Vi simply matched pace and waved a pair of fingers as if to dismiss any commentary before this man could speak. “I'll eventually need to find whatever drink drivel they serve here that isn't sweet.” She stated with a tone that was somehow confident and yet droll. “Just because my reproductive organs are on the inside and not the out doesn't mean I desire to pour liquid sugar down my gullet.”

A soft huff then parted her lips before her head turned so that she could look at this man proper. “Well? Are you not going to introduce yourself? Seems a bit rude.”

 

[Xerxes Verd]

Xerxes did not break stride.

Her words skimmed over him like wind across hull plating—registered, filed away, but not granted resistance. His boots struck the stone in a slow, deliberate rhythm, long legs carrying him easily through the current of pedestrians who instinctively shifted to accommodate his height and breadth. Six-foot-four of armored mass had a way of parting space without asking.

"Space is rarely taken," he replied at last, voice low and even, smooth as cooled steel. "It's simply shared until someone leaves."

He adjusted the lay of his coat with a subtle tug, plates beneath catching the light in muted graphite tones. No ornamentation. No heraldry. Just wear. Travel. Distance.

Only then did he look down at her not sharply, not challengingly. Just a calm appraisal, dark eyes steady and unreadable.

"The docks keep stronger spirits," he added. "Distilled, not sugared. They'll burn on the way down. Most here prefer that."

A faint gust of wind rolled dust across the avenue. He didn't blink.

"As for introductions…" His gaze lifted again toward the skyline, toward cranes and reinforced towers rising where craters once marked absence. "You chose to match my pace. That makes this your initiative."

There was the barest hint of dryness at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile. Not quite not.

"Mandalore doesn't perform for visitors."

Another few steps carried them toward a raised overlook. Ship traffic cut across the horizon in clean, coordinated lanes. Efficient. Controlled. He studied it for a breath before speaking again.

"You can call me Xerxes."

He turned his head just enough to acknowledge her fully now.

"And you are?"

TAG: Viana Morreth

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[Viana Morreth]

Tags: Xerxes Verd


The strong silent type, literally. It was enough to make the white haired witch sigh in something that closely resembled boredom. What was it with these Mandalorians? Did they not have a populace of people who actually enjoyed speaking to others? Just for general information even, it didn't have to be anything fantastical or awe inspiring.

But the silence broke, and Viana gasped as she laid a hand against her chest. The point of her nails pressed against exposed flesh yet did not mar it. "He speaks." The awe in her voice and on her face was as feigned as it could possibly be. It took much to impress Vi, and thus far? She was not even close to as such. Though hearing about the drinks did at least clean up her expression and make her nod. "Good to know. I would hate to think what a Mandalorian sweet drink would contain." The very thought made her nose wrinkle before her expression cleared again.

For some reason, she continued to stride along side this stranger. Perhaps it was the way people parted out of the way for him the same way they did for her back home. She would never admit it out loud, but it piqued her curiosity. In a city full of people who knew how to handle themselves and varied in size, why did they part so reverently for this particular man?

"Be that as it may," Viana quipped, proving that she was keeping up with the conversation even if she had been miles away in her own thoughts. "This is not my planet, and therefor it makes a certain amount of sense to show hospitality to visitors. Entertaining or not."

The overlook drew her focus and golden eyes widened as the woman took it all in. How in all the hells had this become so structured so fast? Well, fast in her opinion at least. Word had spread about Mandalore and it's Mandalorians, the gossip and stories had been what led her here. But this? This she did not expect to find.

"What?" A very brief moment of the woman beneath the hard casing, but it was gone as quickly as it came as Vi refocused on what was said to her. A name, he had gone ahead and given her a name without her having to do so herself first. It caused one corner of her mouth to lift at the edge, the half smirk fitting on her for sure. "Viana," she answered his returned inquiry with a nod of her head. "There now, see? That wasn't so difficult now was it?"

 

[Xerxes Verd]

Xerxes listened to her theatrics without interrupting, his stride never faltering as they moved along the overlook. The crowd continued to part around his broad frame, more out of instinct than ceremony, and he neither acknowledged nor encouraged it. Her exaggerated gasp earned no visible reaction beyond a slow blink.

"Mandalore offers hospitality" he said evenly, his voice low and unhurried. "It simply doesn't dress it up."

A transport vessel crossed the skyline in the distance, its passage reflected faintly in the dark planes of his armor. He did not look at it he already knew the rhythm of traffic here. "If someone needs to be entertained to feel welcome, they're usually searching for the wrong thing."

Her continued commentary did not irritate him. If anything, it seemed to confirm his earlier assessment. "You don't appear to struggle with entertaining yourself." he added, the faintest trace of dry observation in his tone.

When her attention shifted to the overlook and the structure of the city beyond, he allowed himself a longer glance at the evolving skyline. Reinforced towers, disciplined transit lanes, construction layered over scars that had not been erased but incorporated. He regarded it with quiet approval.

Her smirk at the exchange of names earned her another measured look. There was no challenge in it, only calm acknowledgment.

"Names are simple," he replied. "They're the least complicated thing about a person."

He let a few more steps pass before speaking again, his eyes forward rather than on her.

"You didn't come here for hospitality, and you didn't come for drinks." His tone remained level, observational rather than accusatory. "So what brought you to Mandalore, Viana?"

TAG: Viana Morreth
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[Viana Morreth]

Tags: Xerxes Verd


“I would argue and say that names are one of the most complicated things about a person.” Viana had cataloged away everything else that had been said to her, keeping in mind that Mandalore was apparently not very flashy - as if she didn’t already know that, but none of that seemed as important as the one statement about names. “A name tells others who you are, and the fact that you’re able to give any name you desire to most people, lends a sense of control and power with it.”

She tossed her hair so that the white locks fell back over her shoulder and against the length of her back before she continued. “A name allows you to be whomever you want, whatever you want, or to merely be yourself. After all, a title is merely a fancier version of a name, and yet usually demands a level of respect, reverence, or fear.” Vi arched a brow as her head turned to give this man a once over now that they were in closer proximity. “Names can also grant knowledge or mystery.” Her hand lifted and made a vague gesture towards the people that continued to part ways to make room for him to walk. “For example, I know nothing of you aside from your name, and yet you command a level of respect and/or fear in these people that they move aside for you.”

A hum vibrated her throat as she corrected her gaze to look ahead. “Therefore, mystery.” She concluded.

When he asked of her reasoning for being here, she contemplated her answer for a long, quiet minute or two. “Curiosity.” The answer finally emerged and Viana kept her gaze ahead this time. “I find myself drawn to the unknown quite often, and for me Mandalore and it’s occupants are at the depths of the unknown.” There was no denying what she was saying was true, considering the way she had looked around and been stunned by things she had witnessed.

 

[Xerxes Verd]

Xerxes listened to her without interrupting, his pace unchanged as they walked through the avenue. The crowd continued to part around them with quiet familiarity, but he did not acknowledge it; his attention stayed on the argument she was building. When she finished, he took a moment before answering, considering the way she framed the idea of names as though it were something to be solved rather than simply used.


"I don't think we actually disagree," he said at last, his voice calm and unhurried. "You're describing what people do with names. I'm describing what they are."


He glanced briefly along the street, taking in the movement of the city the way he always did, noting the small details out of habit before returning his attention to her. "A name itself is simple. It's just a sound people use, so they know where to direct their attention. What you're talking about is everything people attach to it afterward. Reputation, expectation, fear, respect, sometimes deception, and sometimes hope. Those things can become very complicated, but they don't live inside the name itself. They live in the person who answers to it."


When she gestured toward the people stepping aside for him, a faint hint of amusement touched his expression. "They move because they recognize me," he explained evenly. "Some served under my command. Some fly routes my crews charted when the hyperlanes started breaking after the Planeshift. Others simply recognize the armor and know the kind of work usually attached to it." He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "That isn't a mystery. It's memory."


Her answer about curiosity seemed to interest him more than the philosophy had. Xerxes nodded slightly as she spoke, accepting the honesty of it. "Curiosity is a good reason to travel," he said. "Most explorers leave home for exactly that reason. Not because the unknown is mysterious, but because they want to see whether the stories about it are true."


His gaze drifted briefly toward the distant horizon where Mandalore's rough terrain stretched beyond the rebuilt city, then returned to her. "Mandalore disappoints people who arrive expecting spectacle. It has never been particularly interested in impressing anyone. What you see here is simply what survived." A quiet trace of humor entered his voice as he added, "And sometimes that is more interesting than anything people try to perform."


He studied her for a moment longer before continuing. "Most visitors come here because they want something from Mandalore alliances, contracts, influence, or power. Curiosity is rarer than you might think." His tone remained measured and thoughtful. "You came because you wanted to see it for yourself."

TAG: Viana Morreth
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