Faction Sorcery 101 (Open to all Darksiders)

[Madrona A’Mia]

​

Tags: TSC | TSO | OPEN to Darksiders
Prelude​

Still recovering from recent events on Brosi, A'Mia had decided to make her first foray from the holy worlds to pay a visit to Lysander and his burgeoning projects amongst the Sith Covenant. Truth be told, she had ample personal investment in the newest upstarts on the galactic block as well. Now more than ever, the neti foresaw a Sith Golden Age as a distinct probability.

It wasn't her first time on Pelagon, in fact she was practically a founder of this particular academic location alongside Mercy and Lysander von Ascania .

When her aquatic shuttle arrived to dock, the seal hissing softly to form airtight connection, the neti made her way at once to the wing of the submerged building that her business partner had indicated. Despite a rough few weeks, A'Mia was newly animated with creative energy. Nothing brought her alive quite like teaching did.

Sweeping into the room which was empty save for one familiar face, A'Mia set her large duffle bag down and beamed warmly. A true smile which lit her eyes and brought lines to her face was a rare sight indeed but today it came easily.

"Lysander, how pleased I am to see you Little Sprout."

Present​

Room filled with students and fellow academics alike, the anticipation was as palpable as it ever was in such a setting. Some were bored already, counting down to the end of session, whilst others practically sat on the edge of their seats.

A'Mia remained serene in the face of it all. Dressed in simple purple, floor length robes, the neti stood at the center of the rounded classroom and raised her bright voice above the murmurs in order to call their lesson to session.

"Welcome! Today, we will be focusing on simple sorcery. The likes of which will eventually translate to larger workings."

She gestured with a flourish to the desks they sat at, turning in a half circle to ensure she was addressing them all clearly.

"You'll each find a sheet of premium vellum, as well as various arcane ingredients and implements laid out before you. You'll be learning to craft a very simple item with ritual and those foundational skills will then be used to build more complex sorceries as you continue your careers."

She finished the turn and stopped again, winking at Lysander who sat nearby as both teaching assistant and student himself.

"Any questions before I provide a brief demonstration and allow you all to begin?"

 

[Warpriest Prime]

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O B J E C T I V E | Learn Some New Magic Tricks
L O C A T I O N | Pelagon Campus

Lysander von Ascania | Madrona A’Mia

O P E N​

Pelagon Campus slumbered beneath crushing tides, its spired silhouette shimmering through curtains of drifting plankton and bioluminescent shoals. The submerged structure rose from the ocean floor like a cathedral drowned on purpose, sea Gothic arches webbed in coral bloom, stained glass windows refracting the deep into bruised violets and abyssal blues. The Force moved differently here. She could not quite place it, but she knew it was different than other places she had been. Different than the monasteries of The Ark for sure...

Within one of its rounded lecture halls, the water beyond the transparisteel walls pressed close, vast and watching.

The room buzzed with anticipation as A'Mia called the lesson to session, her voice bright and lilting, cutting cleanly through murmurs and shifting robes. Vellum sheets lay pristine upon each desk, accompanied by neat arrangements of arcane implements. Ink vials. Powders. Small carved talismans. The promise of something subtle and precise.

The doors at the back of the chamber opened with a heavy, reluctant sigh.

The Priestess entered like a siege engine that had taken a wrong turn and found itself at university.

She carried too many things. A stack of old religious texts bound in worn leather. A satchel stuffed with items that clinked ominously. What might have been a reliquary. She paused just inside the threshold, five eyes blinking as she adjusted to the room's hum. The Force here felt...organized. Shelved. Indexed.

It was deeply suspicious.

She began the careful process of finding a seat. Careful, for her, still involved minor structural complaints from the floor. Students subtly gathered their robes and knees as she passed. Dima offered a polite nod to absolutely no one in particular and settled squarely in the middle of the room, close enough to observe, far enough to avoid being distracted by sideways glances.

She placed her books down with reverence.

Then she looked at the vellum.

Brows furrowed.

One large claw lifted the sheet cautiously, as if expecting a trapdoor beneath it. She peered under the desk. Nothing. No hidden compartments. No blood circle. No sacrificial geometry carved into the wood.

She slowly set the vellum back down.

"...Huh."

When A'Mia asked for questions, one of Dima's four arms shot straight into the air with startling enthusiasm. The movement was so sudden a nearby inkwell trembled.

She sat up straighter, clearing her throat as if she had been doing this her entire life.

"Yes!" she boomed, far louder than necessary, before lowering her volume with visible effort. "I mean. Yes, I have one."

All five eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity.

"Is this magic...cool?" she asked bluntly. "Like, will it glow? Or explode? Or summon something with too many teeth?"

A pause. She leaned forward slightly.

"I just want to calibrate expectations early so i thought i'd ask~"

The room had gone very still.

"And please," she added with sudden, heartfelt seriousness, "don't tell me sith sorcery is just...magic math."

 

[Nilira Vornix]

Tag: Lysander von Ascania Madrona A’Mia Warpriest Prime

Sorcery. How quaint. Nilra sat off to the side of the classroom, focused on her own studying as she flipped through her journal, preparing to add more notes to the contents. Much of what she felt had been poured into the pages, indirectly infusing it with the Force as well. It might not have been made out of fancy vellum or pristine leather, but in a way, she already had an innate skill for Sorcery. The Force had always been something she excelled with, as opposed to her physical aptitude.

It was one of the few classes she could take part in, without feeling like she'd be targeted for being weak. There had been that alchemy class she heard about, but alchemy wasn't specifically in the skillset of what she wanted to learn. Not yet at least. Perhaps it would come another day. For now, her focus was on learning how to better influence the Force. How to bend it to her own cause. There had been many a ritual she had read about in the library, yet never quite attempted herself. She never saw much of a need to.

In a way, this was her first proper lesson as an Acolyte. One where she wasn't being thrown into. Perhaps she'd be able to fit into this cla-

"Is this magic...cool?" she asked bluntly. "Like, will it glow? Or explode? Or summon something with too many teeth?"

...Spoke too soon. A sigh escaped her lips at that, as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Her first class and she was already starting to feel like it was going to be pointless. It'd be easier if she just tried to teach herself or found someone to teach her privately. Was it cool? Why did it matter what might have been cool?

​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Madrona A’Mia Warpriest Prime Nilira Vornix | Open​

Pelagon might have been a planet Lysander could have come to appreciate under different circumstances. He hadn’t set foot here since the massacre. Unlike Thrantin’s open air or Coruscant’s urban jungle, this Academy was a submerged structure. Being packed in with unpredictable darksiders was a whole vibe, as someone once put it. One he hadn't quite grown into..

Sorcery wasn't foreign to him, but much of it was beyond his understanding. A gap in his education that shouldn't be dismissed any longer. And it wasn't pride that drove curiosity. Truth was, the Covenant would benefit from more than just sabers and titles. A dual allegiance of sorts.. one to their order, another pointing towards Mercy .

When A’Mia arrived, he was set to work, arranging ingredients on each desk. Some of them he recognized from alchemical work, which was a result her lessons back at Kor’ethyr. Others were strangers. But he handled all of them with care.

When students began to fill the class, he chose a seat at a nearby desk; close enough to assist. His trusty datapad rested beside the vellum, and occasionally he would jot down a note or two. The wink caught Lysander off guard, but only in the timing. Chances were only he understood the real meaning behind it. Growth. For the Neti, emotion required an entire syllabus. From sassy hand gestures to spraying slugs, it’d been an interesting journey to say the least.

Dima was impossible to miss. To no surprise, this one could disrupt the equilibrium of the entire room just by being present. His look wasn’t unwelcome, just.. inevitable? From acquiring bruised ribs by her to a brief exchange on Jutrand, she had a way of materializing everywhere. A hint of amusement danced across Lysander's face before restoring a calmer veneer.

“If you follow the instructions exactly, nothing catastrophic shall happen. But if you don’t.. well, I suppose we’ll learn something either way.”

Maybe that was a teacher assistant way of asking someone chaotic in nature to behave.

He offered one final note. “This class isn’t a warm-up before battle.”

Nilira Vornix 's reaction was caught from the corner of his eye. Someone who came for structure and may have believed themselves trapped in a circus. At least they were taking it seriously. Given that this Academy was several hundred meters under the ocean, walking out of class wasn't exactly an option..

 

[Nevira]

So this was where Sith came to learn? The ocean academy had not been what Nevira was expecting when she arrived on Pelagon, but it wasn’t exactly a bad surprise. She had arrived some time earlier, finding a seat near the back corner of the class so that she could have a better angle on the rest of the students. Nevira wasn’t here just to study the subject, but the people who were taking the class as well. She needed to note their mannerisms, their reactions, and their initial knowledge on the subject so she could better record all this information in her own studies. Another reason why the corrupted Pantoran chose to sit out of the way was the fact that many others seemed instinctively cautious of her. Her incoherent mutterings and long predatory stares were enough to ward off most. That, and it was easier to study people when they weren’t aware they were being studied. Or strapped down, but Nevira didn’t exactly have the resources for something like that. Yet.

Soon enough, students began to trickle in one at a time, and their teacher would show herself as well. Nevira didn’t know really anything about her instructor aside from the fact that she was likely a powerful Sith in her own right. Even without seeing a display of her skill, Nevira could feel the force shift around the woman with weighted experience. She certainly knew her craft, that much Nevira was certain. Nevira also noticed the instructor give a slight wink to another student. She wrote something down. As for the other students, most appeared rather ordinary, with a few very notable exceptions. Orange eyes sharpened intently as a rather tall being walked into the room, a specimen completely unknown to Nevira. This alien was unlike anything Nevira had seen, and she had spent quite a while wandering the galaxy by this point! Massive in height, five separate eyes, many different limbs, and most interesting of all was the strong whirlwind of the force that she carried with her. Nevira did not say anything, but simply stared at Dima with an unreadable blank expression, but her almost glowing gaze did not stop even as the being took her seat far ahead of the corrupted pantoran. For a moment, Nevira nearly forgot about what class she was in. The researcher inside wanted nothing else but to drop everything and interview this creature about her biology. Maybe even vivisect her, though Nevira was getting ahead of herself. Such secrets could remain for a while, as there would be plenty of time later for Nevira to slake her curiosity.

The woman would tilt her head curiously as A’Mia began to explain their goals for the day’s lessons, and before long, the unusual alien in the front raised one of her many limbs to signal her question.

Is this magic cool?

Nevira thought in silence, wondering what her own definition of the word ‘cool’ would even be. A sigh was heard from another girl, Nevira’s eyes settling on Nilira Vornix from across the room. She didn’t say anything, but wrote something else down in her notes while observing the annoyed student. This was going to be enlightening.

When Lysander spoke up to give his advice, Nevira raised an eyebrow slightly. “Shadows dancing near the flames, wondering if they should stick their hands inside? Oblivion is certain, though how would the others know until the light burns their companion away? Ohohoho, lady hubris, forgive me, for the shadows know not pain until they choke on their own failure.” Nevira would mutter mostly to herself as she kept writing stuff down in her own datapad. This was going to be a very interesting class.

 

[Oz Neru]

Location: Pelagon, Under The Sea
Tags: Madrona A’Mia | Warpriest Prime | Nilira Vornix | Lysander von Ascania | Nevira

Stepping off the submersible shuttle Oz looked back to his chauffeurs with a friendly smile. “Thanks for the ride, I got it from here.” He said giving them a thumbs up. The operators only gave a slight nod back with a blank glazed expression before coming to their senses once more. Turning away from them and entering the facility proper Oz let out a sigh. The pantoran had no proof of belonging in a place like this, he must’ve forgotten his Sith license back on his ship. But dominating the minds of such lowly jobbers to get himself here should be enough of a qualification.

In the classroom with others Oz listened to the instructor's words. Noting her botanical nature. If Oz had a credit for every time he taught things from a plant like creature, he would have two credits. Which wasn’t a lot, but it was strange that it happened twice. Glancing down at the sheet and the ingredients laid out on it.

His attention was taken by another in attendance. His eyes widened. It would seem like he wasn’t the only blue one here. He didn’t recognize her kind, maybe her and her people were a more recent addition to the collective of galactic civilization. Her question made him ponder something about his own abilities. He somewhat fancied himself as something of a sorcerer. But when he thought about it more his little tricks may have looked more like cheap knockoffs or counterfeits under enough scrutiny.

Maybe learning to do things properly instead of relying on smoke and mirrors could actually help him. He didn’t have much to say or comment on yet, so he waited for the floral woman to provide their demonstration. ​

 

[Anet Raine]

Madrona A’Mia Lysander von Ascania Warpriest Prime Nilira Vornix Nevira Oz Neru
Equipment: Robes (no helmet) | Choker

Anet Raine arrived late, which was starting to become a trend of hers.

She found being underwater to be a mildly discomforting thought. After all, there was very little to save them from instant pressure death should water breach the facility. She wondered if that was better or worse than drowning...

The acolyte quietly entered the room just as Lysander wrapped up with some advice. Her icy gaze probed the room, capturing the impressions of the others thus far.

Madrona A'Mia stood out the most, of course - how could she not? Anet remembered the woman's presence from Coruscant and knew her to be formidable, to say the least. And quite a bit out there. Next, there was Nilira. Her hand instinctively covered her stomach, where the nasty scar lingered beneath dark robes. The others were strangers she had never met before.

The half-pantoran slid across the back, observing from the outside. More than anything, it was the people she wished to study more than the Force this day.

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

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Theme: Reckless
Location: Pelagon
Tamsin Tag: Madrona A’Mia | Warpriest Prime | Nilira Vornix | Lysander von Ascania | Nevira | Oz Neru | Anet Raine

Eyes scanned the Vellum and ingredients in front of her.

"I thought this was a magick class not creative writing!"

The demon screamed in her head, it went on about how back it's day blah blah blah. Tamsin was trying not to listen to it. Especially with the expletives it spouted about how the teachers were to soft and should already be punishing students. Especially that big toothy one ( Warpriest Prime ) who pronounced Magick wrong. Unless this was a class on prestidigitation and not the actual dark arts.

"I would be more entertained right now, if someone did explode!"

Tamsin just shook her head she wanted to tell it to shut up but she knew it wouldn't listen. It never listened to her, like the fact she told it they were here to learn a different style of Magick then the little bit Kaila had taught her and the Dathomiri and whatever the hell else the Demon knew.

Wasn't that the point for her to gain knowledge for the demon so one day she could die to bring it back into full existence with even more power than it left with. Yet all the damn demon did was complain about learning. Plus, Tamsin thought the teacher was interesting, she had heard about Madrona A’Mia when she had been part time at the Korriban academy. She believed the students there referred to as the scary tree lady nurse.

"You know there is a lot of water around us, I bet I could drown this whole place."

Tamsin let out a visible sighed as she mental projected back to it a…"NO!" causing the demon to go silent for a moment. As she saw Anet Raine arrive late, outside of Anet and Lysander she didn't notice anyone else she really knew. That was when she realized the room was filled with mostly blue people. The Demon was sure to say something about that.

So she just looked to Anet and gave her a slight head nod of acknowledgement and dropped her sights back to ingredients and Vellum before her.

"You suck, I can't wait to kill you." The demon chimed back in.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

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Tags: Warpriest Prime | Lysander von Ascania | Nilira Vornix | Nevira |
Oz Neru | Anet Raine | Tamsin Starfall | OPEN to Darksiders

Sorcery 101
​

Her rather serene expression and lilting voice didn't quite match with the way her keen eyes tracked movement around the room, nor did the happy-go-lucky confidence of a professional enjoying her craft dispel the air of otherness that hung about A'Mia like a cloak. Perhaps it was because they were in such a sanitized environment, a fancy tin can crafted with above average architecture but sterile and pressurized artificially. Her smile might've been fake but everything else about the professor impressed upon her students that she was a creature of the wilds, her magicks equals part whimsy and eldritch just past the realm of rational comprehension.

"Yes!" she boomed, far louder than necessary, before lowering her volume with visible effort. "I mean. Yes, I have one."

A'Mia waited, tipping her head toward Dima in acknowledgment but awaiting the words of any others who might speak up. The xeno was known to the Lord Seer though truthfully she might do well to reacquaint herself, as much time had passed and the Mandalorian seemed to have matured some since last their paths had crossed.

He offered one final note. “This class isn’t a warm-up before battle.”

"Quite right," the neti murmured in agreement with her friend and teaching assistant.

She waited another beat, a few mumbles and sighs smattered the room but otherwise her audience held their peace, waiting expectantly. A student entered late, thinking to slink around to the back but caught A'Mia's eye instead and the neti projected her voice across the room with a trick of the Force. Her tone was conversational, not raised or rushed but held all the weight of command despite the same lilting cadence.

"To the front with you, Anet isn't it? Yes, right here," she gestured to a seat near Lysander. The arboreal women turned away as if unconcerned but noted that the sulking brat stayed put.

"In answer to your question, Dima — this sorcery will be tailor made by you. I've placed a natural limit on how explosive things can get by providing generally stable components, but I do encourage each of you to add your own flair."

A'Mia turned then and took to the little dais at the center of the room and lifted the vellum between two red-brown hands.

"We'll be enchanting these pieces of vellum today. So our base material already comes with great potential. Those among you that know what vellum is can appreciate that it still harbors somewhere within it the memory of life. The very fibers of this substance contain even just a hint of a spark. Working a ritual with a base such as this will come more easily than something like dead-metal or an otherwise truly inert substance. It can be done of course, but today we begin with foundational work."

She paused, wiggling the thick paper in a show of its plasticity before continuing.

"Now! What precisely will our ritual accomplish? That will depend entirely on how each of you craft your working. Will you call forth a letter which can only be read by those you deem worthy? Perhaps an angry tirade which will shout at whoever draws near the item? Or will you aim higher and craft the very first page of your new grimoire?"

The professor set her vellum down on the dais primly, smile growing mischievous.

"I find this an excellent way to not only impart the most basic foundations of ritual casting but also such a fun way to get to know a class full of new and familiar faces alike."

With the casual wave of a hand, several holo-projectors displayed the same concise list of steps in several places throughout the lecture hall.

Key Steps in Ritual Crafting​

• Before beginning: decide based on your innate abilities and skill set whether you'll sustain a connection to the Force for the duration of the working or if it is better to choose a time in which to send a burst of energy into the working
• Bring to mind an end goal or design, if you're a concrete thinker then utilizing maths or geometry is suggested, if you are more cognitively abstract then you must bring to mind a theme or general direction you're working toward and weave into your working various energies which match that
• Take stock of the components you have and choose which will align with your casting
• Begin! Commit yourself — a ritual interrupted is a working wasted. You should continue to steadily use components, weave the Force in, and maintain the momentum of whatever it is you've set out to craft. Some rituals can be paused and resumed but that's not the assignment today
• Don't overwork the ritual. Its just as important to know when to stop a working as it is to know when or where to add a component or energies

"Before you begin, I'll demonstrate something simple."

And demonstrate she did. The catch was that the woman moved with such speed and handled the Force with such finesse that it would be nigh impossible for a novice to recreate her working. Vellum folded and creased with an ease that seemed unrealistic given its supple nature, the odd power was dusted onto it during key moments, what looked to be ink was brushed across pointed edges of the shape taking form on the podium, and all the while A'Mia hummed quietly. Toward the end, the woman suddenly produced an athame and used to to cut about three inches off the end of one of her vibrant green braids. Uttering a word of power, she crushed the vines into dust which she gently blew across the surface of the dais.

All told, the ritual can't have taken more than two minutes and just as abruptly as she started, A'Mia stopped. Holding before her a perfect paper starfighter. With a sly smile, the neti let it loose. The little craft did a loop-de-loop and when it should have plummeted based on physics, the thing kept going. It started on a slow looping circuit of the lecture hall and as it went, emitted a soft tune that was reminiscent of a lullaby. Or it would have been, if it wasn't chiming away in a disquieting minor key.

It kept on its merry way, rising and falling, gaining and losing altitude, while many dozens of eyes followed its course about the room for a long moment.

"There you have it. Get started, make a plan, feel free to work together or alone, I'll be walking around throughout session to observe and answer questions."

A'Mia let a few moments pass before she turned to regard Anet, who was still sullenly playing wallflower in the back, fixing her with an unsettling gaze.

 

[Nilira Vornix]

Tag: Warpriest Prime Lysander von Ascania Madrona A’Mia Nevira Tamsin Starfall Oz Neru Anet Raine

For someone who quite regularly didn't see much of a point in doing anything, Nilira seemed keenly attentive during the lesson, focusing mostly on A'Ma's words as opposed to the other Acolytes. Tilting her head ever so slightly at the thought of adding her own flair to the ritual. What could her own flair be? She wasn't explosive like some might have been. She didn't have much of a fiery disposition either. Her gaze flicked over towards Anet Raine for a moment...From what she saw on Coruscant, it was entirely possible that the half-Pantoran's flair could involve some kind of teleportation. Teleporting an item could be useful but that wasn't something that fit the Acolyte.

The vellum had the memory of life in it as well, according to A'Mia. Nilira's gaze flicked down to her journal for a reason. All of the emotions she poured into the thing...Perhaps it would have been far more potent if she had written down onto pages of vellum as opposed to regular paper...Yet A'Mia also mentione dsomething else that stood out to Nilira. Dead metal. Hm...Perhaps she could use that in some way.

She viewed the Force, and to an extension this ritual, through the lens of emotions. Anger. Joy. Sadness. Each of those were viable options to try and imbue into the vellum. At least that would have been viable, if she had those emotions to use. Yet perhaps she could imbue it with the lack of emotions. A void that sucked things in.

And so she went to work. Lifting her thumb up to her lips for a moment before biting down on it to break the skin and using it almost like a quill, writing across the page with her own blood, using her own life force to imbue the page with the Force. She had seen various Sith runes from her time in the library...yet as she dragged her thumb along the page, Nilira was doing the opposite of their shapes. If they were fuelled by passion, Nilira was doing the reverse of that, fuelling her ritual with nothingness.

Instead of jagged lines that jutted outwards, or arrows that dispersed from the center, there were clean curved lines, pulling inwards to the center of the page, various arrows twisting and pointing inwards, as if to fill the empty hollow hole within the page...A small sigh escaping her lips afterwards as she took a moment away from her work to look around at the others.

​

 

[Nevira]

It didn’t take long for the class itself to become more interesting as time passed. More and more new faces trickled in, all the while Nevira kept her focus, now glued to their instructor. A’Mia was certainly an interesting specimen of her own, though something told Nevira the plant being’s biology would be beyond her own field of study. She was more or less a self-taught doctor and surgeon at this point, but Nevira hadn’t spent much time studying floral life before. Regardless, Nevira needed to stop fantasizing about her research and focus on the current lesson before her. A’Mia was about to demonstrate after all.

Nevira’s orange gaze tracked the paper with keen interest, having tried to take note of A’Mia’s movements beforehand, though the instructor was far too quick and skilled for the corrupted pantoran to keep track of everything. It was an intriguing exercise. The woman had spent years studying and recording old Sith texts and inscriptions, though Nevira still hadn’t tried her hand at proper sorcery yet. That’s why she came to the academy, wasn’t it? To learn? While the paper plane kept circling the room playing its haunting tune, A’Mia instructed them to begin their own demonstrations. What would she do?

Nevira thought for a few moments, staring at the vellum before her. A’Mia’s words were correct when she said the paper still contains traces of life in its fibres. That’s when something the instructor mentioned popped back into her mind. “Dead metal.” As Nevira knew better than most, metal never had to stay dead. An idea began to form. Taking the datapad she had been writing on before, Nevira quickly used what physical power she could to snap it in half! Sparks violently erupted from the devices’ broken case, and small shards of glass scattered upon her desk from the shattered screen. She began to tear at the insides of her now destroyed datapad. Ripping out the exposed wiring and microchips as best she could, Nevira then arranged them across the vellum’s blank page. It appeared roughly in the shape of an old rune, the same rune that had burned itself onto Nevira’s back.

Now she prepared the final step before releasing the force into the object, and that was to add her own lifeforce to the vellum’s. Nevira took some inspiration from her classmate Nilira Vornix and used one of the broken shards of her datapad’s screen to carve a long, bloody gash across the palm of her hand. Now scattering the rest of the glass on the vellum as well, Nevira would allow the crimson liquid to drip across the machine rune with a manic grin. She couldn’t wait to see the results. “The ingredient was always life… And will.” She muttered cryptically.

Madrona A’Mia Lysander von Ascania Warpriest Prime Tamsin Starfall Oz Neru Anet Raine

 

[Anet Raine]

Madrona A’Mia | Lysander von Ascania | Tamsin Starfall | Nilira Vornix | Nevira | Oz Neru | Warpriest Prime

"To the front with you, Anet isn't it? Yes, right here," she gestured to a seat near Lysander.

A little smirk curled at the corner of her mouth. Anet skirted the exterior but did not press forward. Eye contact made it painfully obvious that Anet had heard the Neti but elected not to listen.

Instead, the scholar stopped at one corner of the room in the back. A better way to grasp everything as it went on. Still, despite her interests lying mostly in the students, Anet couldn't help but glance the plantoid's way. She watched the woman as she demonstrated flight with a paper starfighter.

"Really?" She practically scoffed, but it was a thought, not a spoken word.

Anet had caught Nilira's momentary attention and made a point of looking away from the young acolyte. There was a brief flare of vulnerability arising in the Force from the half-pantoran. The fact that Nilira had healed her weighed heavily on her mind, and Anet wasn't willing to acknowledge that here and now.

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

​

Theme: Reckless
Location: Pelagon
Tamsin Tag: @Madrona A'Mia | Warpriest Prime | Nilira Vornix | Lysander von Ascania | Nevira | Oz Neru | Anet Raine

Tamsin staired at the ingredients presented to them as she listened to Madrona A'Mia instructions on the assignment. The demon scoffed at the inert ingredients mentioned remarking to Tamsin.

"Everything has energy in it, nothing is truly inert. Just need the force to destabilize the atoms and you can make a bomb out of a stick of butter."

Though Tamsin knew the Demon was righ , it annoyed her that Demon couldn't just listen but had to try and prove how smart and better it thought it was. Tamsin just looked down and continued to listening as Madrona created an airplane and let it glide through the air while playing a melody.

She heard Anet get called to the front, but Tamsin did not look up but instead continued to look over what was presented before her. What could she add that was something of her own flair. Who was she even, she knew the answer, but she didn't want to admit it to herself. Without thinking she picked up a quill and dipped it into a black ink.

She began drawing runes of a long dead language that she couldn't even read on the Vellum. Yet it flowed from her each rune having meaning and purpose. As she wrote the runes the hairs on her airs stood up in static charge. Occasionally she would stop and look at the other ingredients, adding pinch of inert crystal dust or sand to the drying ink.

As she finished writing her hands then began to start to twist and contort the vellum into an odd shape that at first looked just crumpled but it would form something soon.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

​

Tags: Lysander von Ascania | Tamsin Starfall | Nevira |
Nilira Vornix | Oz Neru | Warpriest Prime
Direct: Anet Raine​

Signs of students getting to work bloomed in her periphery, the Weave rippled and gleamed as various workings were initiated and the Force was called upon. Still, A'Mia's attention remained focused.

With alarming speed and movement that would be considered quite uncanny for a strictly bipedal creature, A'Mia glided up to where Anet had chosen to dig her feet in.

"You must not have heard me," she asserted calmly.

The tall woman leaned over, splaying her hands across the top of the desk.

"Whatever it is that you're preoccupied and brooding about will have to wait. When you enter my classroom I expect you to leave it at the door."

Those words were spoken quietly but for any neighboring students to hear, the next went right into Anet's mind.

If this attitude is about missing your doe-eyed little pet, I frankly expect better from you.
If she vexes you so much that you lose control, that makes her more powerful than you.
Will you stand for that?
​

The break in spoken word seemed merely an emphasis on the severity that A'Mia was bringing to the conversation. But the silent goading was matched by a gleam in her eye, and curiosity as to whether Anet understood she was not only being critiqued for her bearing in the classroom but also the little incident on Coruscant.