Private New Age, New People

[Wrathian Kell]

Tag: Iandre Athlea

The Diarchy. Bastion. Apparently his new home, though his meeting with the Diarchs and the rest of their council had been... Interesting. If not slightly productive. He had a place to stay, people to call allies, and just possibly. Friend. Though he'd been unsure about that. His past rarely allotted for friendship, the closest he'd came was his wife, and that possibly said more about his solitude and desire to persevere than anything else. Now he was here. Or more accurately. Now.

Thrown through time like a poorly delivered joke, much like his plans for this current Sith order. He wanted to go home, to feel the sands of Korriban between his fingers. To look upon what remains, what changed, and what skeletons had been buried over the years. Instead he was here. His quarters within The Crucible of Order were vast and... adequate. Whether he'd been given them, or he commandeered them was up for a bit of debate. But Wrathian himself figured having a Sith-born sleep with the knights and padawans would have caused some stirrings, and possibly broken bones of those who'd disagreed with his being there.

He'd landed in his ship 'The Mourning Star' several days before hand, and had just relocated it to the Crucible. He was lucky to bring a few personal items with him through the time-slip. A Music box, a holocron with several unrelated personal entries, a flag bearing his crest, his lightsabers and spare clothing. It was minimal to say the least.

He'd been rearranging his room in a frenzy, whatever he could do to make it feel more like home, door wide open, nothing where it should be.

Even more aggravating, when he tried to access their archives to inquire about what had become of his people, he'd been turned away without another glance. It was odd for him, being denied, yet he was never one to fly into a frenzy. So instead he walked away seething, and was now doing acts of horror to his room design. There was simply not enough gold, nor symmetries to make him happy. Though perhaps this is how he was taking out his frustration.

Sith interior design. All the while surfing the local networks trying to discover the place he could acquire instruments. It was then there was a pull within his personal orbit of the force. Someone was coming? No one who's signature was at the council meeting though. Curious.

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Rumors circulated around the station about another person from the past reappearing in the present. To get the story correctly, Iandre decided she would take a trip down to Bastion. The capital of her government is where its leaders lived. Who knows? She might even encounter the man she loved. He was busy most of the time, but there was a chance they could run into each other, and she wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

If what Iandre heard was true, then she should bring a housewarming gift to the new person. If the rumor was accurate, he was male, so she would start there. Having also been out of time, she had started with next to nothing. Just the clothes she had been wearing and nothing else. She had long since retired those old robes, but still found comfort in wearing similar ones.

It would take half an hour to get from the station to the city, so she would have time to think. She didn't actually know what the quarters were like on Bastion. Let alone what he might like. A small sense of depression hovered over her as she thought about the different options on what to buy. Normally, Iandre was confident, but today, trepidation seeped in. Sighing at the shuttle landed, she walked off and headed into Revelin.

Knowing exactly where the market was, she nodded to the musician she and Rellik had danced to and looked around for a gift. Deciding everybody needed a blanket, she paid the vendor for it and got it wrapped before heading into the Crucible.

The last time she had been here was when Zara was wounded, and she was visiting her friend. Heading to where she thought this new guy might have his quarters, her intuition was accurate. She could hear him moving things around in his room. His door was open, but she was polite enough to knock before even trying to set foot inside.

Wrathian Kell

 

[Wrathian Kell]

Iandre Athlea

Inside the room, his bed floated above his head, alongside anything else not nailed to the floor. The Force was the only thing above him though. The objects only held up by it.

As the knock came much like he'd predicted, his head turned slowly towards the door and the woman being framed by it. His hands clasped behind his back, the stance of someone regal and elegant, but the body of a martial artist, wearing sleeveless charcoal robes trimmed with gold. Despite the disorder of the floating objects, the room itself was not a mess.

The thing closest to him was a small box, a dial was rotating down as a melancholy tone played from it in a high pitched melody.

"Greetings." His voice was low, somber, almost calm despite everything. The imperial accent might be recognizable to her, but it was older. Much older. "Please come in. And do excuse the chaos, it is temporary." And as he spoke the furniture lowered into the places they needed to be for now. Room to sit, eat, sleep, and meditate. His personal Items were placed beside his bed, and as the lip of the box closed, the music stopped on a dime.

He then fully turned to her, and offered a half bow, half nod. "We haven't met. I am called Wrathian." How many times had he said that this week? He was unsure, but it was beginning to become a line of words that sounded more and more unfamiliar the more he spoke them.

A flick of his wrist pulled a chair out from underneath the table for her if she wanted it. A gesture of kindness yes, but also a way to learn of her intentions. He'd been playing word games all week and was assuming this would be par for the course. So he'd play along for now.

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Having been in this time for about a year now, her experience with people had changed how she felt about many things. Instead of jumping to conclusions about them, she gave everybody a chance. With the exception of one person, she didn't regret this choice. She had decided to visit this newcomer and welcome him to the best of her ability. So she stood outside his room as he turned to invite her into it.

"You're right, we haven't met yet. I'm Iandre, but you can call me Ian if you want."

Accepting the invitation, she stepped through the threshold and held out the package she had picked out for him.

"I brought you something I thought you might need."

Returning the slight bow with one of her own. If somebody had told her when she arrived here that she would be holding a pleasant conversation with anybody who used the Dark Side, she would have said they were insane. Yet, here she was, and she was being friendly to him, or at least trying to.

"Are you settling in well?"

His size was not too intimidating, but she didn't feel threatened by him. Maybe she was becoming immune to people like him. After meeting the Diarchs and falling in love with one of them, she didn't fear Dark Siders. There was also something different about Wrathian. He might be Sith, but he wasn't anything like the one she had met before.

Whether he took the package or not, she did accept the chair he pulled out for her and sat down.

Wrathian Kell

 

[Wrathian Kell]

Iandre Athlea

"Lady Ian then." He tried his best to formulate an informal name, though it wasn't really in his character. He'd probably revert back to her full given name at some point or another. For now he'd at least try it out. Though it was odd, all of this. His wife had been the only non-Sith born individual in is life. He was meeting all walks of individuals and learning more and more about the galaxy at large. So what came next was a surprise.

A... present? How odd. He walked over, one hand coming free from the small of his back to grab the blanket. It was charming at least. While he'd prefer more gold, he wasn't about to turn this woman or her gift away. He tossed the bundle behind him without another glance as it landed square in the center of the bed "Quaint. And thoughtful. You honor me with this gesture, and for that have my gratitude." That was about as close to the words 'thank you' he'd ever come.

It was strange though. Sure he'd been Emperor, but his demeanor had always been one of royalty, even during his exile after his fathers death before he'd had any intention of becoming King. It was probably one of the reasons he ascended so quickly. Now here he was. Crown Prince in blood right alone. But blood was still physical. Still proof enough.

Her next question came. And he found his self wondering about this woman's goal in being here? In his world, no one came knocking without intent or a need for something. A normalcy he'd need to unlearn in this current age, even if he wasn't aware of it yet.

"Are you settling in well?"

"No." It was quick and blunt. "Do I seem composed? Hmm. That may speak to my own talents." The golden facial piercings that the Purebloods wear chimed as his head tilted, the metal bouncing against one another. "...I am quite furious to be completely honest. But that is no reason to throw a tantrum like a child." Wrathian shook his head in a moment of introspection. "I do seem to be unable to relax. I have been trying different methods. None have worked. To be expected."

"And what of you?" The force tingled at the side of his mind. There was something familiar about Iandre. Not personally though. More circumstantial mutuality. "How does one typically come to be within the ranks of this... Diarchy."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

If he needed to be formal, then Ian would accept that. She didn't feel she deserved it, though. Handing him the gift, she took his thanks as he intended it and nodded.

"You're welcome. I hope it can help you sleep better."

His aim was exceptional, considering he hadn't even looked at it as he tossed the package behind him. Watching for a moment as it sailed through the air, she glanced at him as it landed, and she let out a small, but impressed huff through her nose.

"Oh."

He did seem very composed. Probably more than she had been when she came to in this time. That was something they shared and neither of them knew that yet. Though that had been part of the rumour she had heard. Allowing him to give his answer, when he asked how somebody came to be within the Diarchy, she didn't have advice to give him.

"I am more a part of the Lilaste Order, which is on the station above the planet. We are the primary military force of the Diarchy. If that helps.

"I have friends within the Diarchy."

Iandre hadn't considered her position within the Diarchy. It was a good question and one she would have to ask her Master about.

Wrathian Kell

 

[Wrathian Kell]

Her comment on him "sleeping better" hit a spot deeper than he'd taken the time to think about. Perhaps it was the lack of warmth, of love. The tendrils on is face, recoiled at her. The anger he kept so contained reared its head as he clenched his facial muscles. "I believe it may help." A Lie, though not malicious. Protective. Of his own feelings, and hers. There was no version of this future, or more accurately this present, where he would have a good nights sleep.

He watched her reaction of his throw. She was observant. Though his ego was sustained. Unraveling emotionally yes, but physically precise. Composed.

"Hmm. You are a warrior then?" He'd seen the likes of what she'd described within the Mandalorians of his time. Though there was also a deep-seated grudge held by those warriors towards the republic of his era. It seems things do not change.

"It appears I may be reduced to one as well." He paused. "Though it is... perplexing. The rumors I've heard. The sights I've seen. Apparently, five millennia changes much. Including what remains of my people." If anything remained at all.

She then mentioned friends. Such a warm word, for those on the verge of crusade.
Were they friends... or allies? "In my world," he said quietly, "loyalty came from blood or obligation." His gaze lingered.
"I do not mean to judge. But do you trust your... friends? Not with your life. But with what is right?"

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Keeping her face neutral as he recoiled at her comment, she wasn't going to press him. Sensing his words were a lie, she accepted as he intended. A salve over a wound he had and didn't want to open. Iandre didn't know why he had such a reaction, but as he continued to speak, she got an idea why. To address his question first, though...

"I am a warrior. Why reduced? Is there something wrong with being a warrior?"

His following words brought her up short. The rumors were true. Like her and Laphisto, he was also from the distant past. Luckily, she had remained seated and lifted a finger to pause him in his speech.

"I, too, am from the past. Only one millennium, however."

Allowing him to continue if he wanted to, she allowed him to finish his thoughts and query about friends.

"I do actually. Laphisto especially. He has only done what is right by me. Whether it was or not, it is up to us to decide, isn't it?"

Giving him the time he might need to recognize what she said, she waited before asking a simple but maybe deep couple of questions.

"Who were your people and what world did you come from?"

Wrathian Kell