Private In the Aftermath

[Darth Strosius]

Malum's return had been a much busier affair than Darth Strosius had expected it to be. Fitting of course for the Lord of House Marr, but still with far more in attendance than He had thought there would be. Most of which had been all but unknown to Him and the scarce few which were familiar weren't quite familiar enough to warrant Him sticking around to speak with them Himself. Rather, once the speeches and oaths were beginning to wind down, He'd drawn away from the main crowd in favor of a more secluded spot amidst the ruined palace. That He simply wanted a few moments of quiet to fuss over His beloved had nothing to do with it of course.

Now though as the departures began, Darth Strosius made no move to leave alongside the rest of them. Instead He'd decided to take a seat against one of the scarred and now weathered stones that still remained, surveying the ruined grounds with a hum as He waited. Waiting for the "man of the hour" to finish with his guests so that they could get down to the real matters regarding his return from...well wherever it was that he'd ventured off to. He still wasn't certain on the details of course but really it hardly mattered now, Malum was back in the land of the living and he was eager to get back to work. Or, so it seemed at least.

That assumption was precisely what the masked Sith Lord was sitting and waiting for, to see if it was apt or not. After all He hadn't come to see the return of the Tsis'Kaar, He'd come to see Malum. "Think any of his old staff will be willing to come and serve him again? I rather liked their upkeep of the palace when I was here." He mused aloud to Lina as He pushed Himself off of the stone, sensing the approach of the man of the hour. His arms clasped behind His back as He slowly turned to regard Malum, the pale "wings" trailing from His back floating aloft and making Him appear far more grandiose than He'd like.

"And so the prodigal son returns. To a burned home and a destroyed legacy. Not quite how you intended for it to go, was it?"

Darth Malum of House Marr / Lina Ovmar / Srina Talon​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was no trumpet to announce his arrival, no herald to read his title. For all the pomp and circumstance that was afforded the long-last meeting between co-apprentices, there was remarkably little. The wind was the only instrument that played upon the dais they had found themselves, the wind, a whistle that sang sharply across the air, and made ears wheep in their melody. A dais that was no stage, literally or otherwise, but simply the ruins of what was. There was some kind of irony there; the palace had once been ruin, it had been when Malum had first descended upon the world, now it was back to ruin.

"Considering what has become of the west wing, I imagine the old staff will demand considerably better terms." A familiar voice to them both answered the question that had not been addressed to him. As out of the pavilion, announced at first by footsteps that were heavy upon the burned grass, deliberate in their pace, revealing out of the ruined architecture, the armoured form of a figure they had once known well.

But had perhaps since, had become merely memory.

A form in armoured black plate and sable cloth, rising from the steel boots, up through the metallic greaves, past the apparel that hid his midsection, to further up the broad chestpiece that protected his heart, casting wide across covering his arms down to the gloved hands. Where Darth Strosius had wings that extended his size, for the heir of Marr, he held but a frame of cloak and hood, one which melted his frame into shadowy depths. All, in service seemingly, of one singular artifice, for indeed while he was dark in form, illuminated only by reds that seemed to grow under moonlight, and few other accessories of different colour and make.

It was the mask affixed to his face that seemed to centre his whole form. The mask of a long-since-dead Sith Lord.

He tilted his head at the question that was spoken by the former Lord Inquisitor, looking to him, the mask hiding what lay in the shroud of ruby red eyes.

Before he turned out towards the ruins all surrounding them.

A moment passed.

And then another.

And then several had passed.

"...No." The voice held no heat, held little of anything.

"It was not." The masked gaze remained upon the ruins of the palace, upon the ruins of what was. Gardens, hallways, rooms cloistered under chandeliers, balconies that looked over horizons, store rooms with multitudes and everything, figures bustling about, busying away under one task or another.

"I thought it would survive me." A beat passed between them, the wind continuing to whistle more of its haunting melody. "...It should have."

Only then did the masked Sith Lord look back towards the fellow masked Sith Lord, "You were here... I was not," He inclined his head askance, "So tell me, Ali." There was a change in the voice, something inexplicable.

"Why did it not?"

Darth Strosius Lina Ovmar Srina Talon

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Strosius Srina Talon

Strosius was right to fuss, to find a quiet spot where she could rest, the strain of being away from the portal was already starting to show. She had paled considerably, a fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead and yet she was impossibly cold to the touch. The curse of being between life and death. She was settled on a stone bench, Wraithspire resting in its shorter state across her knees, eyes closed, perfectly still as she tried to reach for the portal she knew was above them, drawing some of the nether’s power down towards her.

She was not leaving until her love did, and Alisteri knew better than to press, so they waited, until the fanfare was over, until the other had departed with their pledges made. A warm chuckle escaped her at Alisteri’s question and she opened her eyes to look at him.Her mouth opened to respond that they were probably all dead and if he really wanted them, she was sure she could find them in the nether.

But Malum’s arrival silenced the thought, his mask was back in place and Lina was reminded why she hated the damn things so much. Alisteri was easier to read, there was little that she could not discern in the way she hel himself, but this man before her was a stranger.

The change in his voice was enough to make her move, Wraithspire snapping to its full length as she shot to her feet and stepped towards him, drawing level with Alisteri, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“Perhaps, you should ask that question of your Shadow Hand. Or maybe you could direct it to the Kainites who obliterated your forces here, or the Empress who witnessed their demise? Or perhaps the Dzara and your dear friend Helix who made turncoats out of a considerable number of your little serpents.”

She took another step toward him, passing Alisteri, the staff landing heavily on the cobblestone, the noise travelling beyond their existence as shadows slowly began to draw towards her.

“If there is anyone who has tried to gather your loyalists under one roof without compromising them it has been Alisteri, so perhaps you would like to start this conversation again without looking for a scapegoat for a situation in which only you are to blame, Malum.”

 

[Darth Strosius]

He hummed at the answer called back from the approaching Malum, casting a quick glance and subtle shrug towards Lina from the corner of His visor, and took an idle step forwards. "Well I suppose they will have earned a bonus or two." If any of them had survived the ravaging of the palace then they were certainly owed far more than that of course. If they were smart enough then they would have made themselves quite scarce and difficult to find in the wake of their survival, though perhaps some would be willing to return. Perhaps.

Even as He mused to Himself though, Darth Strosius didn't shift His hidden gaze from watching the Lord of House Marr. Now was the first time that He had gotten the chance to observe Malum without any audience or prying eyes, to judge the man's demeanor and measure his recovery from his absence clearly. Surprisingly he seemed more quiet than He remembered, more introspective perhaps. His words had always been carefully chosen but this was something altogether different, something more somber. Which was of course understandable, if unfamiliar.

And yet from the moment that one hidden gaze met the other Darth Strosius already knew exactly what Malum was about to ask all the same. "Well-" Before He could enlighten the other Sith on why events had transpired as they had done though, Lina was rather quick to step to His side and speak in His defense. A maneuver that caused Him to pause and all but gawk at her as she stepped past Him. He blinked owlishly but rolled His shoulders and composed Himself, fighting back the grin creeping across His face as He quickly stepped forward to rest a gloved hand on her shoulder.

"Lina, love, there's no need to be so harsh. It is a rather apt question after all don't you think?" Truthfully He wasn't certain if He could assuage her, He hadn't quite seen this side of Lina before, and a small part of Him didn't even want to. But now wasn't the time for barbs, at least not yet. Darth Strosius cleared His throat, forcing away the fondness with which He spoke to His beloved as He looked back to Malum. "She admittedly isn't quite wrong though, this is all your doing."

He gestured out towards the ruins in a sweeping motion as He continued. "Betrayal you sew is betrayal you reap Malum. You made a deal with the powers-that-be to put me down when I 'stepped out of line' as it were. And when you didn't fully uphold your end of the bargain they took what they had promised you and more to ensure that all know the price of crossing them. Three brats for a world and the Inquisition, one life for a world and the Tsis'Kaar. Don't you see it?"

Darth Strosius didn't bother hiding the disdain and disgust that began seeping into His words. "I told you that this is what would become of your dealings with their ilk. The Kainite, the corpse, Raaf, all they care about is their own power and the moment that you made yourself the slightest bit inconvenient to that they didn't hesitate to tear away all that you had to lose. You can't bargain with them, you can't reason with them, and you can't obey them unless you wish to be a slave. But you didn't listen to me, and this is what it got you."

He clicked His tongue and sighed, really more of a seethe given His tone. "Sith such as we want to build an empire, to see the galaxy dragged from chaos into order. All they want is their pathetic thrones. You played their game, the one that they had already won decades ago, and this is what happens when you lose. There is no agreement worth making, no discussion worth having, no point in relenting, when they would never do so in kind. You limited yourself Malum, and when it came time to shatter our chains you chose to kneel. To serve and obey, and this is your reward."

The Lord of Wonosa stepped forwards, leaving Lina's side and after a moment He extended an open gloved hand to Malum. "What will you choose now that you see the truth carved into your world?"

Darth Malum of House Marr / Lina Ovmar / Srina Talon​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The figure in plate and steel remained still through all the words thrown towards him. At his side, the sheathed hilt of a Sith Sword stood motionless as the wind continued to blow its cloying cool touch across the clearing before them. He who had once ruled this world stood silent as all accusation and explanation were thundered towards him.

It was as the silence descended again.

A silence for all but the haunting melody of the air alive in memory, passing through ruins acting as an instrument for material that had never been designed to be. A ghostly whistle that seemed to protrude around them, the echo of all that once was.

It was only as the conclusion was reached that motion was made once more manifest. The crimson gaze disappeared beneath the shadow of that ancient visor. Following the staff - once the size of a walking stick - now extended out to its full size; held tightly within Lina's grasp. Then it fell to the shadows that gathered at Lina's feet - sapping at her - as if they wished to claw her willingly or not into their vacuous depths. His head tilted as the gaze trailed upward, considering the form before him, finally resting upon the gloved hand that rested upon her shoulder.

The mask did not move for several seconds.

"...I was not seeking a scapegoat." He uttered with a voice that was plain as it was emotionless, a pause descending upon them.

"...But you are right."

His head tipped as it looked past the hand upon her shoulders, beyond her, beyond them, beyond all of them. The ruins stood still in their quotidian shape; foundations remained, yet walls had been torn down, ceilings had long since collapsed, and what remained within... scavengers and decay had played their role well. The frame still stood; that much had been Srina’s gift, and yet… it was hollow, dead. She could not rebuild what had not been preserved, what had already been broken.

The scent of copper was a spectre in the air.

"...My Shadow Hand... the mother of my children..." He paused; there was a weight to his words that had been absent before. "...She did not fail." The admission was stark; the defence paramount - a heady breath passed his lips. "The Kainites struck at the moment of greatest weakness. This so-called Dzara... and Helix... betrayed the trust that was held in covenant." Weight gave way to a certain hollowness, the voice growing guttural in its sting.

His gaze snapped back to her, and he offered the slightest inclination of his head.

"...I built an Order that could not survive any of it, without me." The mask's visage was vigil as it stared directly forward to his quandary, the red orbs beneath the veil smouldering as it met Lina's emerald gaze.

"The failure is mine." It emerged as a hiss, serpentine in its nature, animalistic in its quality. As if his tongue had grown forked for the fewest of words.

Eyes whipped to his fellow enshrouded Sith Lord. He who now had taken the opportunity to speak. Malum did not interrupt him. Not when he concurred with Lina. Not when he spoke of a pact struck. Not when he spoke of those great Sith that defined their era. Not when he spoke of kneeling. Not even when he extended his hand forward.

Not even when he said the game had been won decades ago.

At that, the mask shifted.

"Decades?" He questioned, in a voice that was the barest whisper and yet carried along the winds as loud as any shout, "...Millennia..." He corrected as easily as he breathed. His gaze drifted to the ruins again behind the former Lord Inquisitor's head. A throne that befitted its room, chandeliered heights that twinkled in reflection of the light cast upon it.

A pyramid upon sands.

A sanctuary in the jungle.

A temple of apostacy made the palace of an Emperor.

"Different names. Different thrones. Different empires. All, the same game..." The gaze turned back to consider his co-apprentice, a silence stretching between them, "...I thought I could play it better." The confession came easily, as easily as a disciple confessed to a confessor, priest, or prophet. He raised his arms into the air, held at the same width of his shoulders, his gaze following the sight to the tallest tower, one of the last remaining, a sepulchre of a ruined church, "I thought patience was wisdom, that compromise bought us time. That if I bent where you would not, I could remain standing until the very moment that bending was no longer necessary." He brought his arms down with a force that had the wind whip around him.

"...I miscalculated." The breath was heavy with another admission, as the gaze settled back upon Alisteri, "You warned me. I thought you impatient. Fanatical. So convinced that you could see the destination that you had stopped looking at the road." The gaze fell to the burned grass and the hard, black dirt.

"I was wrong."

Three admissions, each resounded across the grassy plain in which they stood. The wind itself seemed to pause its torrent, the world itself seeming to bask in awe of all that was now occurring. The ruins themselves, the stage on which the greatest of all dramas played themselves out.

Then the sound was broken.

Chuckles broke out beneath the veil, laughter as hearty as it was loud; a hand crept practised to his second face, as the hiss echoed all about them, the amusement only growing in volume, as the mask detached itself from his face, as standing before them.

Was a face they certainly remembered. They had only seen it some hours ago, but closer, it only became more apparent that as much as matters changed, so too did they stay the same. Long raven locks framed a face that had certainly aged several years, rougher with stress lines evident, and yet ever still, aristocratic, with his aquiline nose and the thin lips curved in their laughter.

All that which seemed to serve the eyes.

Red eyes.

Ruby red eyes.

They had aged most of all.

They burned with a smouldering flame that promised they could not be extinguished. As he regarded both figures directly, seeming to take on their appearance in new light. Memories flooded back: a brother had, and a brother lost, a lover had... and now, seemingly too, a lover lost. He might have been bitter once, but now instead...

...He could only smile.

"...I was wrong about that at least, but let us not get carried away." The laughter subsided with a smirk that did not quite reach his eyes - the laughter had not either. Malum gazed upon the offered hand before him, looking down upon it in fervent consideration, tempted to seize it, only forestalled by what needed to be said.

"You are wrong about something too." His gaze rose, red eyes addressing the masked gaze of the winged man before him, so many questions passing his brow, so much to be answered, and yet still... he needed to persevere still, "You think breaking them is enough." He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes coy in their challenge, "Say we do, say every throne falls, every immortal tyrant is scoured, every chain they place upon us is shattered."

He took a step closer, metal boots disintegrating the ashen grass, "Then what?" The question boomed in the air with a gravitas to make lesser men kneel. He did not say another word for a moment, allowing them to digest it.

"You said we want to build an empire." His hand rose, a new pact to be made upon cadaverous earth, yet Malum did not take his hand, the hand wrapping itself as best as it was able around his forearm, not an agreement between Sith Lords.

But a promise between brothers.

"Tell me what we build." His breath was close to the veil; the question hung in the air like a guillotine to fall. He allowed another breath to pass his lips, "You ask what I choose." The smile was back upon his lips, a smile more real than it had ever been, alight in his eyes a light as bright as it was mad. "I choose not to make the same mistake twice." The grip upon his forearm tightened. "So this time, Ali," The smile widened, his teeth barred as a predator had caught its prey, "You are going to help me make new ones."

He dropped the grip as he withdrew from the circle of his air; only then did his gaze travel towards the third amongst their group, for the fourth had yet to unveil herself. The fourth, he did not doubt, would have much to say.

"And you," His smile remained upon his face, as his eyes were alight in the same anticipation of all that could be accomplished, a fire that roared to burn as much as it was balm to cold, "You believed I sought someone else to blame..." He parsed his lips, considering on his tongue if this would not be something he would regret; and no doubt he would, and yet, how could he contend that it was not all necessary? "Do not stop. If you believe I am lying to myself, tell me. If you believe I am becoming that which I claim to oppose, tell me as well." He tilted his head back towards Alisteri, a grin appearing upon a noble's face, "Preferably tell him as well. He has developed an irritating habit of occasionally being correct."

The grin faded as he breathed through his nostrils, the glimmer in his eye fading as the tiredness took hold. The performance of hours past had finally caught up to him, as he now truly felt the weight upon his body. A body that had only weeks past been submerged beneath quotidian depths, and had only breathed once more after years had gone by.

"...I would rather suffer the insult than discover the truth amongst another pile of ruins and bones." It was then that he noticed that he truly saw her. Memories came back, slowly... filtered across so many, and yet still, resurfacing.

...Her skin had not been that pale, had it?

"Now, there is someone I wish for you to meet once more..." He hid what he had noticed, turning towards the ruins of the palace; his heart ached still... and yet, renewed purpose filled him too. He had found it in ruins once, and he had rebuilt it. What was one more time? "...And unless either of you has developed a particular fondness for standing amongst rubble, I believe there remains one room upon the outskirts of my home with four walls...

He paused a moment.

A sardonic smile fluttered upon his features, one that did not quite make it to his eyes. The palace before him still stood, and yet was still… broken.

"...Three at a minimum."

Lina Ovmar Darth Strosius Srina Talon

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Strosius Srina Talon

Alisteri’s hand settled on her shoulder, the combination of the weight of his hand and his soft words settling her anger, though barely. The question might have been apt, but the accusation that it had been delivered with was not. She took a small breath and exhaled finger rising to briefly settle on those resting on her shoulder, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Lina held her tongue, watching Malum with sharp eyes that didn’t waver. Alisteri may have been ready to extend a hand to a brother in arms to place trust where trust had been before but Lina and Malum had never had trust, they had had volatility, passion and violence.

She did not trust him.

Even as he was wise enough to admit his fault, to see the error in his ways. The hollow laughter sealed that fate, her feet shifting as the ache rose in her legs, drawing on the force to sustain her strength for a little longer. Her gaze flickered down to clasped arms, to a new pact made far too quickly for her liking.

It wasn’t a request. It was a demand.

Lina clicked her tongue and shook her head, her emerald gaze finally shifting to Strosius, her expression contemplative for a moment, before her hand found his arm, settling back in the nook of his elbow as they made to move inside. At the end of the day, she was here for Strosius, not for Malum. Whatever veils Malum might seek to cast over his eyes, whatever lies he might spin to keep Alisteri at his side, Lina would be there to shatter them.

If her love wanted this pact, then he would walk this path with only truth before him.

Her glittering gaze slid back to Malum, to those burning red orbs and the weariness they carried. “If you want my assistance in anything Malum, you must first prove you are worthy of it. I have far more important things to do than to indulge in a fantasy built on whims of an arrogant fool.”

 

[Srina Talon]

​

TAG: Lina Ovmar | Darth Strosius | Darth Malum of House Marr

No one had seen her arrive, but she had been there long enough to listen.

The pale woman remained where the deepest shadows lingered, still enough that a casual glance might have passed over her without any recognition at all. There were runes sewn into the inner layers of her clothing, old things, wrought in thread that drank deeply of the Force. They did not make her invisible…But they did encourage the world to forget her. They hid her heartbeat, her footsteps, and even the sound of her breathing.

They kept the scent of her power buried. There was no jasmine, no rain, no ozone to announce her presence…And so? She listened. Quiet, as a field mouse.

What she heard was not surprising.

Accusation and confession. The sharpness of Lina Ovmar that seemed born of loyalty rather than fact. To Darth Strosius speaking of bargains struck with powers-that-be, of lives traded for worlds, and of consequences delivered when Malum failed to uphold some imagined agreement. Her expression did not change, but there was a tiredness in her eyes that might betray how heavily the crown weighed. The tolls the wars had taken—Fighting endlessly for her children. For them.

It was fascinating...How easily conjecture became history when repeated with enough conviction.

No bargain had ever been struck with her concerning Malum. No agreement had been made to destroy him, punish him, or take Alvaria should he prove inconvenient. Malum had made his choices, and she had made hers, but never had his life been currency between them.

Alisteri, however—

That was different.

There had been an agreement.

After the Kaggath, when the galaxy believed Darth Strosius dead, Srina had known otherwise. She had agreed to preserve that illusion. To keep his survival hidden. To leave him where enemies and opportunists alike could not reach him while he recovered.

Safe.

And she had kept her word.

Even now, as Alisteri condemned bargains with their ilk, Srina offered no correction from the darkness. Not yet. She merely watched the offered hand, the clasp of forearms, and Malum's acceptance that perhaps his greatest failure had been building something that could not survive without him. Srina remained silent while they began toward the mostly restored palace, her presence trailing behind them like a second shadow.

Eventually, they would discover that they had not been alone.

For now…

She wanted to hear what else they believed to be true.

 

[Darth Strosius]

An eyebrow quirked beneath His mask at how easily Malum seemed to resign and agree with His and Lina's assessments of his own fault in regards to the Tsis'Kaar and Alvaria's fates, solemn yet offering little defense or rebuttal as He expected. As He would have done. As He had done. What really made His eyes widen however was the mention of Malum having children. "Children?" Darth Strosius muttered under His breath in genuine disbelief and confusion as He regarded the other Sith with a tilt of His head for a moment.

For that moment the rest of Malum's admissions of responsibility dulled to a buzz in His ears, His hidden golden gaze narrowing and flickering around as He wondered. Wondered who this 'Shadow Hand' was and how she had come to become the mother to Malum's children of all people. Wondered how He hadn't known of this...development at all. And perhaps most importantly, He wondered what had become of this Shadow Hand and the children in the wake of Malum's disappearance.

Rather pertinent questions which He found Himself desiring the answer to far more than He wanted to know if Malum was willing to see the truth in what He said or see if he would take His offered hand. Yet as ever the Lord of House Marr carried on, continuing to admit that His assessment was right which only served to surprise Him further. Darth Strosius couldn't recall if He'd ever heard Malum say such a thing before and were it not for knowing the man's presence in the Force as well as He did then He'd have started to wonder if this was the same man at all.

Perhaps it one sense he wasn't. He could relate to that, sympathize even. Darth Strosius hadn't recognized the figure that stared back at Him in reflections since...well. Frankly He couldn't quite remember when that last time was at all. He was jolted from His musing by Malum's chuckle, raising a brow again as the younger Sith relieved himself of the mask that he wore. Much like before He briefly noted just how much his face had changed since He had seen it last, however this time it was far clearer.

There was no facade to present to a crowd of eager eyes and unfamiliar faces, though He still saw the reservation hidden behind the laugh and grin. Whether He was meant to or not though was unclear. Darth Strosius inclined His head at the mention of Him being wrong in some manner, undoubtedly some misspeak or overreach on Malum's part, especially when he seemed to imply that He didn't intend to go far enough in His crusade. Clearly his time away had dulled his recollection somewhat.

The heavy question was met with a scoff. "Is it not obvious?"

Darth Strosius didn't relent or withdraw when Malum chose to grasp His forearm rather than the offered hand, His own gloved fingers curling around the younger Sith's arm in kind. He recognized the familial gesture for what it was and for a moment He let the question hang in the air. "We build what we are owed. What we've earned. That which the galaxy needs. A true Empire of Sith." It was a heartfelt response, impassioned and genuine. Laced not with arrogance or even ambition but rather certainty. A desperate hopeful sort of certainty.

Yet in spite of the gravity of the moment Malum's call for new "mistakes" as it were still drew a chuckle from the still masked Sith Lord. "Well if you insist." Darth Strosius stepped back and idly crossed His arms behind His back as the Lord of House Marr then addressed Lina with his request for stability and guidance, albeit not without a sly remark cast towards Him in the process which caused His eyes to roll. "Only 'occasionally'? You really have been gone too long."

Although Lina didn't quite seem as fond of Malum's remarks as He was, their gazes meeting and His wincing slightly at the hardness that He noticed in hers. She was right to be skeptical of course, beyond justified really, though there was one particular facet that she was perhaps forgetting. One that He didn't hesitate to remind her of underneath His breath as they followed after the Lord of House Marr with his invitation to one of the last standing structures of the palace grounds. Or whatever was left of it at least.

"Do not let go of your suspicion beloved, but I encourage you to temper it if just this once. We don't exactly have many to call upon in our efforts against the Kainate." He paused and shrugged. "Unless I can convince that 'Mercy' character to focus on the true enemy of the Sith rather than the Mandalorians and Republic. Unlikely, but not impossible."

Darth Malum of House Marr / Lina Ovmar / Srina Talon​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum did not slow as Lina's accusation pricked his back; there was only the slight tilt of his head, the bristles on his face unveiled once more, as a single red eye provided a sidelong glance. A half-smile on his lips, if only for the fact that only half his face could be seen. Yet, his deliberate pace continued, every step measured, a destination keenly in mind.

It did not mean he was incapable of multitasking.

"Good," He provided in answer that held all good humour. "I did just ask you not to indulge me." He turned his head back towards the path in front of him, the wind wafting over him having the dark loose cloth on his form flutter in the air. "I desire not your service... simply watch me... if I prove worthy of your assistance, provide it." He tilted his head in the opposite direction now, glancing towards his masked compatriot, "...If I do not, make certain he knows before I do." He turned his head back to the front.

He had caught Alisteri's confusion, even behind the mask, that had been clear enough to notice. Ignorance of his fellow head of the hydra had not been policy, and yet, there were far too many things that his co-apprentice did not know of. That apparently Lina and her Red Hand had been no more successful in keeping him informed than he and the Tsis'Kaar... was troubling.

He kept his pace; in the distance, a single home seemingly rose from the ground.

The groundskeeper's home. A quaint little cottage, made of brick, wood, and stone, it seemed the Force did have a sense of humour, for the front had collapsed. A roof was in place, yes, three walls... also yes.

He thought back to the groundskeeper.

...Then he blinked.

A struggle by his lips as his memory failed him. He shook the thought, the dryness of his tongue, feeling ever more pertinent now, as he swallowed the protrusion by his throat like it was an apple during a summer's fair.

"...And yet," There was barest hesitation in the words, one which seemed to pass across his very form, "...What would proof look like?"

He passed the confines of the home; the wind made for cold company, yet, saved from its air on three sides, it was at least better than the outside. It was a difficult proposition to tell from the inside, though, for it had been wholly ruined; food had spoiled, curtains had been ripped, and the bed nearby had broken. Yet, as he extended his hand out in front of him, the Force answered his call, as snapping around his finger's grasp was the spindle of a wooden chair. He spared a single glance towards Lina, noting the paleness of her features again.

He laid down the chair, providing no further invitation, before moving for the table. The mask was pulled out from the depths of his cloak, placed upon the edge.

As he turned towards Alisteri.

"...A true empire of the Sith." He breathed, as the pause fell over the room.

And then came the smile, one that did not quite make his eyes. "...What is that? What is true?" The question hung in the air, and yet, it would not be the only one. "You speak of building what we are owed... owed? Owed by whom?" Both his hands fell upon the table gently as he drew himself out of over it, the dark shadow emerging over the proceedings. "Who owes it to us? The Empire? The Galaxy? The Force?" The word lingered, and yet, Malum was certainly not done.

"...Every tyrant whose bones lie beneath our feet believed something was owed to them."

He pulled himself back from the table, raising his hands back to their sides, as he stood at his full height, bedecked as ever in black plate ornamented in crimson. "You speak of what the galaxy needs." He narrowed his eyes at the statement, as the gravity of the statement was unveiled in full force. "Did it ask us?" He chuckled without amusement, shaking his head; a glance towards the cracked cooling supply unit tempted him for what cool drink may have existed there once, and yet, his glance back revealed his disappointment. "We have spent ten thousand years telling the galaxy what it needs... sometimes we were even right." He offered a humourless smile, "Yet, it has rarely thanked us."

He let out a breath, blinking the vertigo from his vision, leaning back against the wall, gazing up at the broken light that left them in darkness.

"There is something else..." His voice drawled, seeming to consider the spectre in high darkness the most illuminating matter in existence, "...I do not claim to know Mercy, but if you imagine the Mandalorians," There was the slightest hesitation at the word, "and the Republic are any less our enemies, you have not been paying attention." It was then that he dropped his vigil, red orbs looking dead-eyed towards them both, "If Mercy wishes to bleed them, let her." He pushed off the wall, his melodic steps bringing him back to the table as he loomed, "We need not make every ally fight every enemy."

He shook his head, wistful, "That was another mistake; I thought unity meant agreement." He sighed, a sigh that was as heavy as it was audible, "It does not. It means agreeing which disagreement can wait." That had been the concept he had never been able to materialise in his mind, that he had never been able to vocalise to Alisteri.

And yet...

...He could not claim any confidence that it would change anything.

There was one final piece too, he supposed. He tilted his head knowingly.

"...Also, yes, children." He hid the pain in his voice.

He would be with them soon, he promised again.

Lina Ovmar Srina Talon Darth Strosius

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Srina Talon Darth Strosius Darth Malum of House Marr

Alisteri’s surprise about Malum’s children drew a stab of guilt from Lina. It was a detail she failed to share, not because she had any intention of keeping the knowledge to herself, but because she didn’t deem it relevant. Malum was gone, his children were with their mother, and they had had more important things to focus on.

Her own sickness for one.

As for proof? She didn’t have an answer. Even if he could prove himself reliable and honest, would Lina ever truly trust him? Probably not, but how much of that was down to her own shortcomings, and how much would be down to his remained to be seen. She watched him pull a chair from the wreckage, caught the wordless glance her way as he set it down.

He noticed. Lina bristled but pride did not override the need to rest. Her fingers slipped from Alisteri’s arm as she took a seat, wraithspire shrinking once more as she did. The conversation shifted to that of Empires and Lina let her gaze wonder as she listened with one ear while the other turned to things unseen.

She never chased power in the same sense that many others did. Empires rose and fell, titles were meaningless, the only thing she cared about was true power, power in the force that would grant her the strength she needed to give her loved ones all they desired.

And power enough to make Kaine Zambrano beg for mercy.

The thought made her lips pull in a small smile that faded as her gaze slid over something that slipped from her mind's grasp the moment she did. Her head tilted a frown, creasing her brow she let her gaze fall to the floor, watching the shadows as they passed them watching them pull not just to her but elsewhere.

Lina lowered a hand, palm towards the ground, her fingers working, weaving slowly as she called something from the depths of the shadows around them. Long spindly fingers wrapped around her wrist, its slender body crouched beside her as hollow eyes looked up at her.

Investigate.

It slipped away, vanishing into the shadow, sniffing through the shadows to seek what she could not.

“@Mercy will not start a fight in Srina’s backyard.” she said, her attention returning to the conversation, a slight smile pulling at her lips “though I’ve no doubt she would love nothing more than to test herself against such an adversary, she and the Empress are close. The only person you can count on Mercy supporting within the Blackwall is her.”

Outside the Blackwall though? Well that was another story entirely.

"You have spoken a great deal about empires about taking them through iron and blood. You ask Alisteri to help you make new mistakes, yet as ever you are being vague on the details of your own plan. Because there is a plan. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

She tilted her head.

“So, what do you want?”