K.O.T. Founder
Pahul's lips curved into a grin that was almost too charming for the setting. "Especially a Grandmaster." He paused, letting the words linger before turning to greet a fellow guest at the table as if nothing had happened.
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Private Just a small incision :2300:
- Thread starter April Lotuka
- Start date
Character
April lowered her goblet, staring into the golden liquid. She could still feel the trace of his smile pressing at her thoughts. Whatever game he was playing, it unsettled her more than any duel.
Character
The hall grew louder as more trays circled through the tables. Laughter echoed, the clinking of goblets rang, and the initiates—bright-eyed, hungry, eager—ate with reckless joy. April tried to let their energy ground her, but her focus remained scattered.
She felt it first in the Force. A ripple. Subtle, almost imperceptible—like the surface of still water touched by a single falling leaf. It was coming from across the table, from Pahul. His presence was vast, luminous, controlled. Yet beneath that serenity was… something else. A current she couldn't name.
Her fork slowed mid-cut, her senses sharpening.
And then—pressure. Warmth. A hand brushing against her thigh beneath the table. Deliberate. Firm enough that she knew it wasn't accidental, gentle enough to be deniable.
April froze. The world around her blurred into background noise. She forced her breath to remain steady, her face calm, her eyes fixed on her plate. But inside, the ripple became a storm. The Force around her coiled, bristling like a predator ready to strike.
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head toward him.
She felt it first in the Force. A ripple. Subtle, almost imperceptible—like the surface of still water touched by a single falling leaf. It was coming from across the table, from Pahul. His presence was vast, luminous, controlled. Yet beneath that serenity was… something else. A current she couldn't name.
Her fork slowed mid-cut, her senses sharpening.
And then—pressure. Warmth. A hand brushing against her thigh beneath the table. Deliberate. Firm enough that she knew it wasn't accidental, gentle enough to be deniable.
April froze. The world around her blurred into background noise. She forced her breath to remain steady, her face calm, her eyes fixed on her plate. But inside, the ripple became a storm. The Force around her coiled, bristling like a predator ready to strike.
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head toward him.
K.O.T. Founder
Pahul's expression was maddeningly composed—his fork poised, his goblet raised, as if they were merely discussing the weather. And then, when no one else was looking, he tilted his head just enough to meet her eyes. A quick flash of teeth. A wink.
Before she could react, he withdrew his hand and rose gracefully from his seat, sliding back into the crowd with that same easy charm.
Before she could react, he withdrew his hand and rose gracefully from his seat, sliding back into the crowd with that same easy charm.
Character
She tracked him through the Force, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, until she saw him approach two younger figures at a neighboring table—his daughters,
Reylin Vitorbreeze
Zoe Vitorbreeze
.
Reylin Vitorbreeze
Zoe Vitorbreeze
.K.O.T. Founder
His posture softened with them, the stern Grandmaster again, affectionate yet proper as he placed a hand on each girl's shoulder and exchanged quiet words.
Character
April sat still, her pulse still racing, her jaw tight. The warmth on her thigh lingered like a brand.
What had just happened?
A test? A taunt? Or something else entirely—something that could shake the image of the man the galaxy revered?
She pressed her goblet to her lips, hiding the storm behind her eyes. If anyone had noticed her shift, they'd see nothing but a Knight enjoying her meal. But inside, her thoughts churned.
The shadow in Pahul's smile was no longer just suspicion. It was danger.
What had just happened?
A test? A taunt? Or something else entirely—something that could shake the image of the man the galaxy revered?
She pressed her goblet to her lips, hiding the storm behind her eyes. If anyone had noticed her shift, they'd see nothing but a Knight enjoying her meal. But inside, her thoughts churned.
The shadow in Pahul's smile was no longer just suspicion. It was danger.
Character
April excused herself with a polite smile and a nod to the guests at her table. None questioned her departure; the hall was too alive with music, conversation, and the clinking of plates for anyone to notice her absence.
She slipped into the corridor outside, the noise of the feast fading behind the heavy doors. The silence was immediate and oppressive. Cool stone walls lined with dim sconces gave her nothing to focus on except the storm within.
Her boots echoed softly as she walked, aimless at first, until she found a small alcove beneath an arched window overlooking the gardens. She braced herself against the sill, palms flat, the night air brushing against her flushed face.
Her thoughts spun.
He touched me.
The image of Pahul's easy smile replayed in her mind, the wink that had cut her balance in half. He hadn't acted like a man caught in impropriety—he had moved as though it were deliberate, chosen.
Her stomach twisted. This was the Grandmaster. The man her sect revered, the one whose philosophies guided the K.O.T. He wasn't supposed to behave this way.
And yet…
April's eyes flickered shut. In the Force, she tried to trace the ripple she had felt at the table. That strange undercurrent beneath his presence. It hadn't been lust, not entirely—it had been more complicated. Calculated. Like a veil covering a hidden current of intent.
Was it a test? A probe into my discipline? Or… a warning?
Her fingers curled into fists against the stone. She thought of the initiates inside, laughing, eating, celebrating. Would they believe her if she spoke of this? Would the sect? Or would she be painted as fragile, paranoid—unworthy of her title?
She drew a long breath, steadying herself.
No. This stays with me—for now. I need to know more before I decide if it's confession… or confrontation.
But even as she resolved to bury it, April knew the brand of his touch wouldn't fade so easily. It would follow her into her meditations, her sparring, her sleep. A question without an answer, and a shadow she dared not share.
Behind her, faint laughter drifted through the door as the dinner continued without her. Inside, her secret condition had always threatened to expose her. Now, she carried another secret—one with far greater stakes.
And in the back of her mind, she could almost feel that smile again.
She slipped into the corridor outside, the noise of the feast fading behind the heavy doors. The silence was immediate and oppressive. Cool stone walls lined with dim sconces gave her nothing to focus on except the storm within.
Her boots echoed softly as she walked, aimless at first, until she found a small alcove beneath an arched window overlooking the gardens. She braced herself against the sill, palms flat, the night air brushing against her flushed face.
Her thoughts spun.
He touched me.
The image of Pahul's easy smile replayed in her mind, the wink that had cut her balance in half. He hadn't acted like a man caught in impropriety—he had moved as though it were deliberate, chosen.
Her stomach twisted. This was the Grandmaster. The man her sect revered, the one whose philosophies guided the K.O.T. He wasn't supposed to behave this way.
And yet…
April's eyes flickered shut. In the Force, she tried to trace the ripple she had felt at the table. That strange undercurrent beneath his presence. It hadn't been lust, not entirely—it had been more complicated. Calculated. Like a veil covering a hidden current of intent.
Was it a test? A probe into my discipline? Or… a warning?
Her fingers curled into fists against the stone. She thought of the initiates inside, laughing, eating, celebrating. Would they believe her if she spoke of this? Would the sect? Or would she be painted as fragile, paranoid—unworthy of her title?
She drew a long breath, steadying herself.
No. This stays with me—for now. I need to know more before I decide if it's confession… or confrontation.
But even as she resolved to bury it, April knew the brand of his touch wouldn't fade so easily. It would follow her into her meditations, her sparring, her sleep. A question without an answer, and a shadow she dared not share.
Behind her, faint laughter drifted through the door as the dinner continued without her. Inside, her secret condition had always threatened to expose her. Now, she carried another secret—one with far greater stakes.
And in the back of her mind, she could almost feel that smile again.
Character
The morning light spilled in through the narrow slats of her chamber window, soft beams painting the stone walls in pale gold. April sat at the edge of her bed for a long moment, staring at the folded garments she had laid out the night before. Not her ceremonial robes. Not the crisp tunic of her station.
Today, she chose something different.
She pulled on the sleek, dark-blue spandex material she kept tucked away at the back of her wardrobe. It hugged her frame, designed not for ritual or sparring but for sweat—for movement. She tied her long brunette hair into a taut bun, slipped her feet into light boots, and moved to the training mat she had unrolled across the chamber floor.
Push-ups first. Then rolls. Stretching transitions into fluid kata drills with an empty hand, her body moving in steady rhythm. Each repetition was supposed to clear her mind, but Pahul's touch—the warmth of it, the boldness of it—returned like a phantom with every motion.
She gritted her teeth and pushed harder, sweat beading across her skin.
This is wrong. I should despise it.
Yet something deep inside her, hidden even from herself, craved it. The smile, the ripple in the Force, the danger of it all. She exhaled sharply, angry at the thought, angry at the way her heart betrayed her discipline.
When the last set ended, she collapsed to her knees on the mat, breathing heavy. Her body was drained, but her mind remained restless.
April reached for her holo-comm resting on the sill. She hesitated, glancing once at the door to make sure it was sealed. Then she activated it. The display bathed the room in pale light as she scrolled quickly through the public news—skirmishes on the Rim, trade disputes, another holovid scandal in the Core. Nothing of note.
Her fingers hovered, then slipped into a different feed. The encrypted one. The one she had built herself under a false name, hidden from the sect. Her private space.
Where she had once set up a dating profile.
It had been a whim, a lonely experiment in connection she never admitted aloud. Most messages she ignored. But today—today, there was something new.
An unread notification pulsed.
She opened it.
The message was simple, elegant:
Today, she chose something different.
She pulled on the sleek, dark-blue spandex material she kept tucked away at the back of her wardrobe. It hugged her frame, designed not for ritual or sparring but for sweat—for movement. She tied her long brunette hair into a taut bun, slipped her feet into light boots, and moved to the training mat she had unrolled across the chamber floor.
Push-ups first. Then rolls. Stretching transitions into fluid kata drills with an empty hand, her body moving in steady rhythm. Each repetition was supposed to clear her mind, but Pahul's touch—the warmth of it, the boldness of it—returned like a phantom with every motion.
She gritted her teeth and pushed harder, sweat beading across her skin.
This is wrong. I should despise it.
Yet something deep inside her, hidden even from herself, craved it. The smile, the ripple in the Force, the danger of it all. She exhaled sharply, angry at the thought, angry at the way her heart betrayed her discipline.
When the last set ended, she collapsed to her knees on the mat, breathing heavy. Her body was drained, but her mind remained restless.
April reached for her holo-comm resting on the sill. She hesitated, glancing once at the door to make sure it was sealed. Then she activated it. The display bathed the room in pale light as she scrolled quickly through the public news—skirmishes on the Rim, trade disputes, another holovid scandal in the Core. Nothing of note.
Her fingers hovered, then slipped into a different feed. The encrypted one. The one she had built herself under a false name, hidden from the sect. Her private space.
Where she had once set up a dating profile.
It had been a whim, a lonely experiment in connection she never admitted aloud. Most messages she ignored. But today—today, there was something new.
An unread notification pulsed.
She opened it.
The message was simple, elegant:
Character
No signature. No holo-image. Just coordinates attached to the Core's beating heart.
April stared at it, pulse quickening again. This wasn't chance. Someone had found her. Someone who knew she was hiding behind masks.
She set the holo down, lips parted as if to speak but no words came.
Dinner. On Coruscant. An invitation that could shatter everything she thought she kept hidden.
April stared at it, pulse quickening again. This wasn't chance. Someone had found her. Someone who knew she was hiding behind masks.
She set the holo down, lips parted as if to speak but no words came.
Dinner. On Coruscant. An invitation that could shatter everything she thought she kept hidden.
Character
April's hands lingered over the holo long after the message dimmed, her reflection ghosted in the glass. Dinner on Coruscant. An unknown sender. A risk too great for any Knight to consider.
And yet…
She stood abruptly, crossing to her wardrobe. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing folded tunics, simple travel cloaks, and training gear. She pulled one bag from the shelf, the kind she used for missions—unmarked, discreet. Piece by piece, she began to pack.
Standard robes. Boots. A weatherproof cloak. Practical garments, easy to justify if questioned.
But her hand didn't stop there. Her fingers brushed over a smaller bundle wrapped in silk, hidden toward the back. She unrolled it slowly, revealing something she hadn't touched in years: an outfit of sultry black lingerie, delicate fabric threaded with shimmer. Too delicate for her station. Too revealing for her vows.
April hesitated, heart pounding. Why would she even—?
Her throat tightened. Why do I feel compelled to bring this?
She sat back on the bed, the lingerie draped across her lap, the weight of it almost accusatory. She closed her eyes, reaching into the current of the Force. Seeking clarity. Guidance.
At first, there was only static. Her restless pulse, her uneven breath. But then the deeper truth pressed against her mind like a whisper carried on wind:
You are craving.
Not food. Not rest. But touch. Sensual. Raw. A connection that training never spoke of and discipline never nurtured.
Her eyes opened, blue irises trembling under the dim light.
It struck her with sudden clarity. The flutter in her stomach, the heat beneath her skin—this wasn't born from the message alone. It had been seeded already, the moment Grandmaster
Pahul Vitorbreeze
hand lingered on her thigh, the way his smile had dared her to wonder. He had cracked something open inside her, something she had buried beneath years of silence and secrets.
April pressed the lingerie back into the bundle, hands shaking, then slid it into her pack. She hated herself for it—yet she couldn't leave it behind.
The Force gave no condemnation. Only silence.
And that silence was worse than judgment.
And yet…
She stood abruptly, crossing to her wardrobe. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing folded tunics, simple travel cloaks, and training gear. She pulled one bag from the shelf, the kind she used for missions—unmarked, discreet. Piece by piece, she began to pack.
Standard robes. Boots. A weatherproof cloak. Practical garments, easy to justify if questioned.
But her hand didn't stop there. Her fingers brushed over a smaller bundle wrapped in silk, hidden toward the back. She unrolled it slowly, revealing something she hadn't touched in years: an outfit of sultry black lingerie, delicate fabric threaded with shimmer. Too delicate for her station. Too revealing for her vows.
April hesitated, heart pounding. Why would she even—?
Her throat tightened. Why do I feel compelled to bring this?
She sat back on the bed, the lingerie draped across her lap, the weight of it almost accusatory. She closed her eyes, reaching into the current of the Force. Seeking clarity. Guidance.
At first, there was only static. Her restless pulse, her uneven breath. But then the deeper truth pressed against her mind like a whisper carried on wind:
You are craving.
Not food. Not rest. But touch. Sensual. Raw. A connection that training never spoke of and discipline never nurtured.
Her eyes opened, blue irises trembling under the dim light.
It struck her with sudden clarity. The flutter in her stomach, the heat beneath her skin—this wasn't born from the message alone. It had been seeded already, the moment Grandmaster
Pahul Vitorbreeze
hand lingered on her thigh, the way his smile had dared her to wonder. He had cracked something open inside her, something she had buried beneath years of silence and secrets.April pressed the lingerie back into the bundle, hands shaking, then slid it into her pack. She hated herself for it—yet she couldn't leave it behind.
The Force gave no condemnation. Only silence.
And that silence was worse than judgment.
Character
She slid the last of her garments into the pack and sealed it with a hiss. The bag looked ordinary, innocuous. Yet she knew what it carried—practical robes, weapons, travel gear… and the hidden bundle she couldn't explain even to herself.
She exhaled slowly, steadying her racing heart.
That was when she heard it—three quick raps at her door.
She exhaled slowly, steadying her racing heart.
That was when she heard it—three quick raps at her door.
Zoe Vitorbreeze
K.O.T. Academy member
"Knight Lotuka?" a young voice called, light and confident.
Character
April stiffened. Zoe.
Zoe Vitorbreeze
K.O.T. Academy member
The Grandmaster's younger daughter. Bright-eyed, spirited, known for her boldness. April hurried to shove the bag beneath her bed and tugged her hair loose from its bun, trying to look less deliberate, more at ease.
The door slid open before she could answer fully, and Zoe stepped inside. She was still in her pale training robes, a grin flickering across her face.
"There you are. I thought you'd vanished after the dinner." Zoe's sharp blue eyes swept the chamber quickly, curious, as though cataloguing every corner. "You missed the song the initiates sang for the elders. Reylin rolled her eyes the whole time."
The door slid open before she could answer fully, and Zoe stepped inside. She was still in her pale training robes, a grin flickering across her face.
"There you are. I thought you'd vanished after the dinner." Zoe's sharp blue eyes swept the chamber quickly, curious, as though cataloguing every corner. "You missed the song the initiates sang for the elders. Reylin rolled her eyes the whole time."
Character
April forced a chuckle, folding her arms across her chest. "I needed air. The hall was… overwhelming."