Private Old Stomping Grounds

[Cordelia Malkavian]

Location: Netra'yaim
Attire: [X] [X] [X]
Tag: | Darth Metus |

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There were so many things that were still strange; Old feelings and memories that would crop up, things that would cause pause, hesitation. Things that would cause serious moments of dwelling thought as images of an old life flashed before eyes of the new life. Things that would only serve to make teeth stand on edge, and anger pulse through the veins. It was in locations as much as it was in people that would occasionally be heard of or even seen, and this instance it was the former.

How many years had Cordelia spent apprenticed to her Master? Ever unwaveringly loyal, never questioning. If told to jump, she would not have even asked how high, she merely would have done as told without hesitation. Take a life? Done. Protect a life? With her own - and she had. A hiss passed through briefly bared teeth, flashing fang for only a moment in the process. How loyal she had been, ever the obedient student, and how had she been repaid for her loyalty? By being left behind - left for dead.

It was this fact more than anything else that drove Delia forward. She had left little signatures here and there, things that she knew anyone who had previously known her would take notice of. Things that would raise curiosities and questions, because last anyone had saw of Cordelia? She had been dead after all, right? Not so much was the less than technical answer. Delia had been on the cusp of death, teetering on the abyss, but clutching to what was left of her life desperately. And yet when she had finally come to, it had been none she recognized there with her. She had been abandoned, left to her fate, and now she had, had years to dwell on it and stew.

So her return to Netra'yaim had been fully planned. She did have full memory of her life before, after all, even if all those memories did was anger her more - save for two. There were two precious memories she held dear, though were also a part of her gnawing anger considering she knew nothing of either nor where they were. But for now, one step at a time, and last Delia had known? One of those memories had been left in the care of her Master, and he would be where her hunt truly started. Of course, there were plenty of old wounds to navigate first, and she was certain that she would get her chance to do so. While not entirely unbelievable that she could be alive, it would probably not have been expected either. So once her Master picked up on her signature presence within the ever annoying Force, it would only be a matter of time before he sought her out - if only to sat curiosity or confront whatever trickery could possibly be in play.

But there were no tricks. Just Cordelia returned home, ready and awaiting the first of several planned confrontations.

 

[Darth Metus]

R E T U R N​

Tag: Cordelia Malkavian

Cordelia was an Artist.

Like any who created masterpieces, the young woman saw fit to leave her signature in places only the keen-eyed would see. A painter would seldom mar the beauty of their work with an obvious scrawling of name - and thus, their mark was in the way the clouds moved on canvas. Or how the scene of nature was depicted. In the case of Cordelia, the Sith Lord began to recognize her mark upon the canvas of the Galaxy. And though he had a nation and a House to manage, this chapter of the past demanded his full attention.

In a time long since past, when Darth Metus was freshly named by the Dark Lord of the Sith, he had taken many under his wing. He tutored some in the ways of combat. Others in the ways of control. Yet Cordelia was one of the few he mentored in sorcery. Her past was riddled with...blemishes. Riddled with chapters from which she could draw the strength to perform the deepest of magicks. And so, he showed her how to turn the sorrows of old into fuel for might. She was a valued apprentice - a fitting tool to exercise his will.

And on one fateful day, she died so that he could live.

The chaos of the fighting had taken the Sith away from the body. And by the time he returned, what remained of Cordelia had vanished. He assumed that those who Hunted the Sith had eradicated every trace of his apprentice - and thus he took his time in bringing about their slow demise. But, in the present, her signatures began to appear. Reports of bodies blown open began to reach his ears - as if their blood had been boiled inside and finally burst. That was a tactic he favored years ago. That was a signature she now used to paint his streets.

She was coming. And Darth Metus was ready.

On this day, she would find Netra'yaim open to her. The typical droids and Graug guardsmen were nowhere to be found. The towering doors swung open to admit her. Silence would rule the corridors should she choose to advance - and she would know the way. She would know where He was waiting. In the heart of his castle, seated upon his throne was the Sith Lord. A goblet of wine in hand, one leg casually crossed over the other. His burning gaze awaited her return. And with it, the answer to questions that were seemingly dead.​

 

[Cordelia Malkavian]

Tag: | Darth Metus |

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It had been a rather quiet stroll since Cordelia had set foot anywhere near the grounds of Netra'yaim. No one and nothing to stand and question or oppose her. Nothing to slow her down or cause any sort of hindrance to her approach. And yet the quiet did not disturb her, it did not deter her, nor did it make her think twice. In fact, it made her smirk, and it was quite the broad expression on the redhead's face as she casually closed the distance between the outside and the inside. Clearly she was being expected, and honestly Delia would have it no other way.

Familiarity was strong the moment she had passed over the threshold and into halls. Strange how up until this moment, nothing had cracked the surface of her new life enough to cause such a sensation, but here it was now. It did not slow her however, not in the least. But Delia knew these halls, she knew the way to where she was going without even having to stop and think about it. She needed no reminders, needed to give no pause to locate herself and pick a direction. Her feet carried her effortlessly, as they had done a thousand times before, and when she reached the heart of the keep she flowed into the room with the same grace and poise that she had always had.

Cordelia may have radiated anger and resentment now, but it made her no less a naturally graceful creature.

There was no immediate lashing of words; no accusations thrown. They both knew why she was here - how would be rather painstakingly obvious to. Though she didn't exactly have the answers as to who or why, just that it had happened. Regardless, she did not remain at too far a distance. While she didn't rush to invade bubble space, slow and calculated footfalls carried her plenty close enough. For just a very short time she observed the man seated across from where she now stood. She took in what changes there were, and what changes there weren't, and then her own burning gaze snapped back to his.

Once again her lip curled into a smirk, "I've painted you a picture," she let out, voice still smooth as silk and with that underlining tinge of feminine sultriness that had always been present. "Did you like it?" Delia had put great effort into such subtle little clues left behind after all. All of which built up into one solid masterpiece meant just for him, and with a very clear message attached: Cordelia was very much so back.

 

[Darth Metus]

R E U N I O N​

Tag: Cordelia Malkavian

The hatred was palpable.

Were the circumstances any less dire, the emotion radiating from the woman would have been flawless for instruction. Such realities were the gateway to the Dark Side - a lesson that he had drove into her skull years upon years ago. Yet, now was not the time for guidance down the midnight path. Now was the time for answers. Before the Sith Lord stood a being who he had watched suffer an untimely demise. A being who, when he returned to the scene, was no longer present. The obvious answer was one which set Darth Metus' soul ablaze.

How convenient would it have been for those assailants to simply target one of their own. How easy would it have been for the death to be a falsehood. For the apprenticeship to be an elementary ways of learning his patterns, his strengths, and his weaknesses. There could be no other reason why her remains were removed from the scene so quickly - by all accounts, her body should not have even ran cold when he returned from his pursuit. Yet, she was gone without a trace. If the obvious answer was correct...then she was a traitor all along. And she simply rose from her well-played guise and scampered off into the night.

But why return now? To finish the job they had failed at doing so long ago. To use those skills he had taught her in order to bring about his demise. That was the obvious answer. That was the worst case scenario. And any Sith worth a damn knew to prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. Darth Metus drew a calm sip of his beverage when she spoke. The dry sensation ran down his tongue, until the goblet was left barren. In one, fluid motion the cup was discarded and the Sith rose to his feet. In another, crimson burned into being. His lightsaber ignited and stood ready across the gap - a fiery divide between Master and Apprentice.

"You've created a fine mess." he said, tone as even as his expression. His face did not betray the firestorm within. Yet she knew. She would feel the inferno raging behind the blade. "So this is it then? Come to finish what you and your cohorts failed to do so long ago?"

A wicked chuckle fell from his lips.
​

 

[Cordelia Malkavian]

Tag: | Darth Metus |

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At one time, that sight before Cordelia now would have terrified her. In her younger years she would have cowered, and later after would have at least known to draw a step back and shut her mouth. But as she gazed across the distance still remaining between the pair of them, the sight actually brought a laugh from Cordelia's lips. The sound bubbled right up her throat and past her lips, though the expression on her face was only half amused. There was a torture there in the other half, something she usually did quite well to hide, but in that moment the walls were down due to her surprise at his deduction of what had happened and why she was here.

"Cohorts?" she repeat the word through her now tapering giggles, and yet it was said with distaste. "Is that what you think happened? That I was struck down for show, and had been nothing more than some traitor within the closed ranks?" Now her laughter had ebbed entirely, and the smirk was back in place, sealing her expression once again. "I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised..." If there was one thing Delia was good at, it was the long game. So really the idea that she had merely been playing him the entirety of her apprenticeship wasn't all that far fetched. It was wrong, utterly and completely wrong, but not one wit far fetched.

And then, the smirk was gone, and her face went flat. "No," Anger seeped back into her features and her eyes narrowed. She even stalked forward now, no weapon drawn, no movement to grab for anything on her person, and no fear of the lightsaber that could cleave her in half with no effort at all from it's wielder. "That would be so simple, wouldn't it? To shift the blame of what has brought this moment about from the villian to the victim instead." She stopped close enough for the saber to touch her if it was extended in her direction, gaze ablaze again as she stared up at her former Master now.

"You left me for dead!" Cordelia finally railed out. There was the briefest moment where her voice wavered, but it was gone as quickly as it had happened. "I laid my life on the line to save yours, and then was left behind to die alone!" Her teeth grit, and fang was bared for a time as she glowered at him now. "And when I finally woke again? I did not wake amongst family or friends. I woke to nothing, to no one! There were none to tell me what had happened, none to tell me how I was alive, or where I was. There. Was. Nothing."

 

[Darth Metus]

R E U N I O N​

Tag: Cordelia Malkavian

There was a part of the Sith who wanted to believe.

Though he had instructed the wrathful woman before his eyes on how to walk the midnight path, there was once no malice between them. Though he had instructed her in how to turn her sorrows and agonies into power, he did not do so to cultivate her hatred towards him. No. There were moments when he had bandaged the wounds his lightning had inflicted. Moments between the harshest of lessons where they were decent to one another. Therefore, as the wrath slid from her tongue, Darth Metus wanted to believe.

There had been oh so many times he had fallen victim to betrayal, however.

So many times that he had lowered his guard and suffered the consequences. He had lost brothers during the Dreadguard's betrayal. Lost his identity when the Mandalorian Empire came to rise. How much more would he lose for lowering his guard? It was evident in his expression that, behind those burning eyes, there was a conflict roiling. The battle of a Master shaken by the tale of his Apprentice...versus the Sith who felt he was betrayed. His grip upon the lightsaber tightened, but he did not allow it to mar her flesh. Not yet.

"I did not leave you." came his response. Thunderous emphasis was placed upon each syllable. "I watched you fall. I saw your life explode away. And I ran after those responsible. When I came back - you were gone."

He paused for but a moment, his thumb dangerously close to the ignition switch. "If what you say is true - then it is not I to blame. If you, who I know so fething well, did not betray me - then know those who hurt you are dead." Instinct reared its ugly head. This tale was all well and good, but it was far too convenient. Far too easy. "But you already know that, don't you?"

"And you've come to finish the job."​

 

[Cordelia Malkavian]

Tag: | Darth Metus |

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Men...It was still as true now as it ever was that once they got something into their heads, it was what they ran with. Or that had been Cordelia's personal experience at least. Had she not just told him that his theory was incorrect? That his accusations were not founded, and they held no merit to them whatsoever? It was enough to make the redheaded woman roll her eyes so hard that it was damn near audible - a move she never would have dared pull in response to something said or instructed to her before.

"And who is to say that this was not all some elaborate snare set by yourself, hm?" she countered in that moment, though her gaze did dip just once to the lightsaber in his hand before lifting once again. "Perhaps you had grown tired of teaching, or perhaps paranoid even that a student was becoming much too powerful to control any longer." That was hardly the case in reality; Delia had always been unwaveringly and unquestionably loyal, which was another reason that Metus' accusations were off the wall.

"It would have been simple to get rid of such an apprentice, would it not?" she continued. "To ensure that you were outnumbered, that there would come a point to test whether loyalties to you were solid or not, and then have to chance for that apprentice to be struck down by fate rather than by your own doing."

Yes, it was outlandishly ridiculous, and very much so the point. Cordelia let that fact sink in for just a moment before she continued. "Had my intentions been to come here and attempt to strike you down, I would not have made sure that you knew I was coming. Alive yes, weary certainly, but not that I was headed home." It was hardly home to her anymore, but for emphasis purposes she used the term. "You certainly taught me better than that - even if you did abandon me." Seems she certainly was not intent to let that tidbit go, even if her moment of crazed rage had died out for just the time being.

 

[Darth Metus]

R E U N I O N​

Tag: Cordelia Malkavian

Women.

How swiftly it was that they could weave tales in a moment. With such ease could they craft a narrative from thin air to sway the hearts and minds of men. The crimson-haired woman knew her Master quite well - knew that there was a nugget of chance that her tale could be believed. And thus, she could sell the act well. Her eyes rolled in disgust as the Sith stood firm on common sense. If it were true that she was not a traitor, then how did she survive? How did someone who was practically blown apart now standing before him, whole as the day they met.

Something didn't add up.

The words which came caused the man's brow to furrow. That silver tongue launched an accusation - that perhaps he was responsible for her plight. She knew him well enough to know that the notion was laughable. Full stop. So much so that the man actually did utter a chuckle. A cold, mirthless one. "If you had fallen out of my favor, I would have killed you myself." he spat. "I am no Jedi. I do not stand on some moral high horse where an assassination is how I sleep at night. If I had wanted you dead - dead you would be."

There was a change in her tone. A change in the atmosphere of anger which had defined her entrance. It slowed - as if tempered the more they spoke. While it was not enough to lower the man's guard, it was enough that an olive branch was extended. One coupled with a question. His weapon was lowered, yet the blade still burned. "I did no such thing." he began. "You were gone. When I returned to collect what remained...you were gone."

"What happened that night Cordelia. If it was not treachery, then where did you go? Who restored you? And most importantly, what do you seek now?"

Why now after so many years, did she decide to come Home?​

 

[Cordelia Malkavian]

Tag: | Darth Metus |

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Its not as if she didn't know these things, the truths he was so easily spelling out for her. had Cordelia truly fallen from grace, her former Master would have had no qualms with striking her down where she stood. Thus why she had used such a tale of treachery as an example; it was wildly ridiculous, just as his accusations towards her were. The thought of betraying the man stood across from Delia had never once crossed her mind - even now when she lived and breathed anger and hurt, she had not come with ideals to try and take him out. No such things had ever once were entertained. Torment perhaps, but even that was not in a traditional sense. The idea to drive him insane with only very few snippets of knowledge that she could be alive had of course come to mind more than once, but for the first time in both of her lives? Delia had grown impatient.

Which brought them full circle, right to the matter at hand. He wanted to know what had happened, and more importantly why she was here. That was easy enough to answer, and she held up a hand with her index finger extended upwards. "One thing at a time." she let out, tone much calmer now than it had been, even upon her arrival into the chamber.

"I was drawn from the field by a creature who saw an easy meal. I was dying anyway, and he didn't have to fight for it. Unfortunately for me he must have tasted something he enjoyed because there was no finishing me off. In fact, I spent the better part of my healing as his play thing." she smirked slowly then. "And unfortunately for him, I got better." Aside from the vague information, she spared the Master details. "Long story short, he's dead and I am not." Clearly. Cordelia then sighed through her nose and for the first time looked away. "It took more time than I care to admit to find myself from there. Things changed, physical needs changed, and it drove me mad. The details are gruesome and not worth getting into, but eventually I found someone to help me learn control again.

"It took years, but here I am." It was a basic rundown, but it was the information he wanted regardless. Now her gaze fit back to him, and her expression hardened. For a time she observed him, contemplating carefully before she would speak again. He wanted to know why she was here, why she had surfaced? Again she took a single step closer and nearly growled her words. "Where are my girls?" Perhaps it was an unfair question, she had only left her Master with the knowledge of one curly redheaded child. But Cordelia didn't run on fairness, and she wanted answers. Hell, she didn't even know if her girls had found one another, much less if anyone else knew there were two. But the question was out there, and what she wanted and why she was here was finally out in the open.

 

[Darth Metus]

R E U N I O N​

Tag: Cordelia Malkavian

The Sith's gaze was unwavering.

There was still a mountain of doubt residing within Darth Metus. Still a spire of skepticism which had been erected by betrayal after betrayal. It would be madness for the man not to have doubts. Madness for the man to simply accept the word of the crimson-haired woman at face value. His instincts told him otherwise. Everything he knew told him otherwise. And yet, despite the raging of his instincts, a nugget of faith began to cut through the doubt. The explanation which fell from her lips was...plausible. There was a high possibility it could be a falsehood.

Something...no...Someone had seen her broken form on the battlefield. And as the life seeped from her, took it as an opportunity to feed. To taste. If what she said was true, she suffered greatly. To go from being torn apart to being abused...His finger twitched and the bloodshine blade extinguished with a schooop! He did not yet settle the weapon back upon his belt. And his burning gaze did not leave her features. "You were preyed upon. Driven to madness. Changed." he repeated, both for his understanding and to show he understood.

And then the question of why she returned was answered. It had taken her years to become Cordelia again. Years lost. Years spent away from her child...ren? The Sith was only aware of one. In that moment, Darth Metus truly understood. Despite the wrath, despite the hurt, despite the feelings of being abandoned, where could she go for aide in answering this question? Where could she turn to locate her children? The answer was home. And thus, a heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Delia." he answered, using the name she had permitted all those years ago. "I don't know where your daughters are. But. I can certainly find out."

"But first, I must know. Are you coming home?"​

 

[Cordelia Malkavian]

Tag: | Darth Metus |

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There was still the tension of skepticism in the air, Cordelia could taste it, and it sent a fresh wave of raw fury through her veins. Had she not stood here and openly delivered her story to him - sparing the gruesome details of course, but the full story regardless. Had she not spoke the words, told him what he wished to know of such morbid events, and then answered his following question as well? The words had been said, and while they had not been introduced the way she had originally intended? They were still out in the open between the pair of them now.

And then...there was a moment of clarity. While there was still a natural air of skepticism due to all things considered, there was understanding. A break in the tension, and it made Delia's body slowly ease. There was no state of relaxation for the woman, not really anymore unless it was a rare moment, and this was not one of those moments. But her gaze swept from the burning gaze in front of her, to the deactivated lightsaber, and back again followed by a slow and steadying sigh through the red headed woman's nose afterwards.

At no point could she scoff at the confusion of what she had asked; She had merely left Calixte in her Master's care were anything to happen to her, and the other child had been whisked and hidden away to protect her. Little did she know how that child would not have needed such measures taken. But the answer that had come from the man stood before her made Delia frown, a deep expression that pulled down the corners of her mouth and seeped into her eyes. Not quite a scowl but fairly close to it. "You don't know?" she repeated at him, and while at first anger pulsed through her, trying to take root and take control, instead Cordelia laughed.

It was a single sound, just once at first, and then again. This continued until she was actually laughing, and she lift a hand to press it firmly against her forehead. "Of course not!" she railed out between hysterical laughter. Why would she have expected any child of hers to remain here? There were too many other things to see in the galaxy, too many other experiences to have. "How much like me does this child have to be in order to leave home on her own and not look back?!" she found this far too amusing - though for Delia it had been quite the opposite. The galaxy had been cruel to her, and so she had found solace here.

Slowly her cackling began to tame, and eventually even tapered off. She wiped at her eyes though there was no moisture really there to free herself from, and she made an elongated sound of almost amusement as her gaze once more lifted to her former Master. It had been worth the shot, to start where she had left the one child. To come home and to hope that things had been as she had left them. Clearly the girl-child had been more spirited than Cordelia had ever given her credit for. So when the next question was posed to her, Delia took a moment to breathe in and out slowly. She contemplated both the question and her answer, weighing her options as she did so. There was very little about her that was the same as it had been; looks, her characteristics, sure. None of that had changed over much, but the rest was damaged and/or tainted.

But, "Where else would I have to go?" she quipped, brows lofted. There was no place else she had ever considered home, after all.