Private Strongest Together | House Verd

[House of Verd]

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Location: Netra'yaim​

Arasuum was once a God.

In the ancient religion, when warrior prostrated themselves before graven images, there was one the Mandalorians chose as their own. Kad Ha'rangir was the personification of War - of Change. To worship was to exact his design upon the stars. To serve was to live a life of constant invigoration. What was anathema to this deity was Arasuum. This was the personification of sloth - of Stagnation. Those who allowed the comforts of the Galaxy to seep into their bones were, therefore, natural enemies to the primitive Mandalorians.

And though, in the modern era, worship of the old Gods faded, the truth remained the same - Arasuum was the adversary...and it had crept into the bones of House Verd.

The blame did not rest upon a singular head for this reality. When Mandalore came to be ruled by a regime which hated the Force, many Houses chose exile over their cure. The Verd found a history of service to Manda'yaim cast out the window due to the sins of others - and thus, they chose exile rather than kneeling before such hatred. To exist in this era was to question what it meant to be Mandalorian. Or what it meant to be filled with the Force. Could any of the House call themselves the former? Did any of the House see the blessing of the latter?

In those days, the Alor busied himself with the erection of a new nation. And many of his family followed suit - taking up roles of repute within the Southern Systems. Under this banner, they fought many battles and their skills remained sharp. Yet their identity as a House was fading. When last was it that they gathered for mugs of tihaar before a fire? When last were the young taught the stories of old? In fact, there were many siblings who did not know they existed. Many cousins. Siblings who had not seen one another in years.

Thus, at the height of his nation's success, the Alor took a step back to look at his family. To look at his children, his siblings, and his kin. He strove to answer those questions posed by their exile. And the result was the Rule of Iron. The Alor then set to work gathering the scattered souls that made up his House - not to command into battle, as those days would come soon enough. But rather, to know. For the first step in shaking off the stain of Arasuum was to remember who they were.

It was fortunate enough that the man born Isley Verd knew his children and the whereabouts of his House. Missives were sent across the stars, imploring for them to meet within the halls of Netra'yaim. They would find the black citadel open for their arrival. But, beyond this, they would find a literal feast waiting. The Great Hall was adorned with long tables, filled to the brim with the finest dishes. Music echoed throughout the space, played by the local droids. Tihaar and strong drink flowed like water. Today, House Verd had every reason to celebrate -

For they were Strongest Together.

Spoiler: Tag

Note: You are welcome to bring loved ones or close friends to accompany you to this event! Spouses, Partners, Apprentices, Etc. - whomever makes sense to be with you can attend!
Darth Miseria
Safira Varad
Isran Varad
Shalita Verd
Damsy Callat
Haastal Haran
Alluria Ivalice
Shuklaar Kyrdol
Aselia Verd
Rann Thress
Uxagi Xatash ,
Allya Vi'Dreya
Darth Ivum
Srina Talon
Darth Elyria
Cordelia Malkavian

 

[Haastal Haran]

Haastal Verd ~ Clan Verd ~ Alor'ad​

Bringing the freighter out of hyperspace, Haastal whistled out in relief before propping his boots up on the console before him. Four days of Hypertravel were enough to make the Mandalorian's head spin. At least it had been in pleasant company. For the last few weeks Haastal had spent the majority of his time with Redd . Their meeting had been chance. In fact, their relationship had started as any healthy relationship would, in a hard-pressed no bounds fight. Just thinking back on it made the Mandalorian smirk a bit. He pulled his helmet off, setting it on the console before him so he could breathe in fresh air.

"About time." He said, as his eyes took in the thickly rolled clouds of smoke that his brother referred to as The Gloom. There had not actually been intentions for Haastal to return home so soon. He'd spent the past week targeting trade freighters carrying loads of Beskar. Mandalorian Iron belonged to the Mandalorians after all. After assaulting the second freighter, the man had heard that his brother, Isley was calling for a meet of the clan. It had been some time since the clan gathered and Haastal wasn't keen on missing another meet.

He pushed off the console, making his way into the main living area of the ship. His eyes could spot the scarlet red hair almost immediately and the Mandalorian walked over to the woman with a casual demeanor about his stride. "Trip's over, you can relax." He walked behind Redd, bending down to wrap an arm around the woman, his hand rubbing her waist affectionately. He bent down deeper, sinking his teeth into her neck playfully, as he had a habit of doing from time to time. "Trust me, you'll enjoy this. No one throws a party like a Mandalorian." He told her, before bringing his hand up to hold her own in his.

"We can drop the metal later, let's go see if we can find my egg-headed brother." He said, before clipping his buy'ce to his waist and gesturing for Redd to follow him out of the freighter. Haastal made his way over to the console that overlooked the ramp and immediately tapped into it.

"Welcome to Netra'yaim - or Castle Black." He said, gesturing out to the hold as the ramp lowered down onto the langin platform's surface.

Redd Darth Metus

 

[Aselia Verd]

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H O M E​

Aselia had been no stranger to the Confederacy since her sudden return to friendly territory some months ago more and more she had been appearing any time trouble began. For some time she had been working across the galaxy as a mercenary, in truth the mercenary stint had been primarily a cover story for the mission she had been given. Through it all she had, of course, stayed in contact with her buir keeping him apprised of her progress and all had been going well, that was until recent events had drawn her back to Confederate space the situation with Ryloth and Siskeen, and then Rodia and Talay and cemented the fact she needed to devote her attention back to her family and friends.​

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In her adventures, she had managed to run into Allya Vi'Dreya more than once, and at Rodia she had been able to provide support to Darth Miseria along with Saram Kote and a small group of Saram's aliit. The young woman watched out the window of her fighter as the stars whirling past began to slow before her ship finally emerged back into normal space above Krant, not the homecoming she was quite expecting but when the summons came, she did not hesitate and had immediately set course. Leaning forward slightly her hand found the throttle and pushed it forward sending the Kom'rk fighter forward before diving into the atmosphere. The flight there itself was quick much shorter than the trip in hyperspace.​

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The black and red fighter contrasted against the grey skies overhead as it approached Netra'yaim it would bank around before finally approaching one of the many open landing pads available for them and she waited what seemed an eternity for the landing struts to fully extend and the ship settles its weight gently upon the platform. Rising from her seat she grabbed her helmet off the console and took a deep breath as she put it back on and made for the ramp it would be the first time any of them had seen her new beskar'gam, usually she favored tradition but perhaps due to the influence of Allya she had sought a more modern armor to deal with modern threats.​

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As the ramp lowered she started down the black armor faintly reflecting the light and a red cape hanging from her shoulders, it may be a bit more flashy than most of her aliit would probably approve of but it was hers she began walking finally toward the entrance to where her House Verd would gather for a long-overdue meeting.​

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TAG: Haastal Haran | Darth Metus​

 

[Redd]

NETRA'YAIM​

Tags: Haastal Haran | Darth Metus | Aselia Verd​

Wearing

Redd wasn’t one to normally voice her concerns over much. She was someone who would rather grit her teeth and deal with it, rather than complain. In fact, ever since she found herself moving from place to place, she was fast having to get over the fact that she found herself upon a ship more often. Plus, it was the company that she had found herself to be in, which was extremely helpful when it came to such fears. His calm demeanor when flying, was fast growing on her even though she was now seated upon the couch, with her head leaning back against the headrest with her left arm flung over her face to cover her eyes. Slight sensory deprivation helped somewhat, but it was the mental exercises that she was doing inside her head, that counted more.

To distract herself, she was currently going over everything that Haastal had been teaching her about the Mandalorians and the Manda. There was so much to remember, but Redd didn’t mind it at all. However, it wasn’t just the flying that made her nervous, it was the fact that she was about to meet most, if not all of Clan Verd. Haastal’s clan. It was the very definition of taking your partner to meet the family and she felt the nerves bundle up within her stomach. Was it even possible that she could act human enough? Did she even have acting human, down pat? Would they notice that she was a wolf and not at all human? Would they reject her for being a lupine? These thoughts kept her occupied and they were strange thoughts, because not once till she met Haastal did she ever have to think about such things. She just assumed that most that wasn’t a shifter type, wouldn’t accept her. Haastal changed that way of thinking for her.

Her thoughts had been disrupted when she scented the male, of whom she currently shared a bed with and a lazy smile curved her lips. Her arm lifted from her face, so then green eyes could look up at the male. A hand trailed lazily over his arm when they wrapped around her frame and she felt his teeth at her throat, which drew a low growl from the woman. ”Parties are a little… Difficult for me. They can either bring out the best or make me want to rip someone’s throat out.” Redd admitted as she moved to rise from her seated position.

The wolf didn’t wear anything Mandalorian, in fact, she wore her Knight’s Obsidian robes; robes of a Thorn student. It’s black and silver shimmer silk and songsteel threads of the bodice, were accentuated by the sweeping lengths of the arms and the cloak. Her Thorn attire was probably the only thing that she had, that was by any means acceptable for the occasion and a pale hand lightly tugged at the material as she joined Haastal by the ramp. A hand reached out to lightly touch his arm and she was tempted to place a light kiss upon his lips, but as the ramp dropped to reveal Castle Black, the wolf simply shook her head while she took in the fact that she was standing right where she never thought that she would ever be.

”Are you sure that I should even be here? I can stay here and guard the metal. Make sure that the Sith don’t try to retake it” She said as the hand upon his arm gripped it a little tighter and felt very much out of her element. Redd was basically a wolf in sheep’s clothing, or in this case, human clothing. You’re a wolf, you don’t hide, the woman told herself as she stood straighter. She angled her right and then left, almost as if she was going into a fight.

One could say that formal social settings, were not her strong suit.​

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[Damsy Callat]

PRODIGAL RETURN​

Tags: Darth Metus Haastal Haran Aselia Verd Redd​

Wearing: ~ x ~​

White again, per Tatooine tradition. ​

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She had finished mourning the dead of Omega Squad, but not Dauntless' leadership. Nothing and likewise no one could take this social disobedience, this legionary boycott, from her. Not until she felt her message had been heard throughout the Confederacy, or she died, whichever came first.​

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Her recent meeting with the Alor had illuminated for her many things, with the most light of all being cast upon one truth: She had every right to embrace her rage. She could but also had to run to it, rather than away. She had been wronged by War Marshal Luna Terrik and deeply offended by the CDF's continued affiliation with Breshig War Forge Consolidated. For feeling her truth, there was nothing wrong; It only would be if she either denied herself or otherwise bend a knee to it in avoidance.​

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She wouldn't do the latter. Either. Never.​

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Damsy hadn't technically moved back into Confederate space, but she was more than ready to. Krant was a less hospitable environment climatically and with respect to terrain - not nearly enough sea or related salt air for her taste - but still she yearned to settle into Netra'yaim. With its black fantasy and monstrous underbelly of Drake Den, and of course its familiar residents, Castle Black would offer her an altogether better home than Camp Phoenix ever had.​

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She was already deep within the aforementioned Drake Den as her kin yet arrived. Wandering the profuse tunnels was not a pastime she had taken up because she felt out of place among the finery above in Ardent Reach, but because she felt equally at peace down here. She could embrace the reality that she might have been also locked here while respecting her place in the House. After all, her belonging was wrought by the unstable practice of Sith Alchemy. Serendipitous, even, for her, as she had been born sentient. Part of her felt pity from the other sithspawn that hadn't, for one reason or another, cut it, and thus felt as if she owed them much the same kinship she owed those about the enter the halls above.​

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And maybe they had the same respect for her, in their own ways. House Verd's monsters bowed to their Queen, some quite literally, as she meandered past in search of a place to lay her own nest.​

 

[Rann Thress]

N E T R A ' Y A I M​

Wearing: Red Coaaaaaaat​

Tags: Darth Metus I Damsy Callat I @open!!!!!!​

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Rann had no intentions of showing up here. As he walked up the steps towards the door into this Castle, he couldn't help but ask himself why he was here.​

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He remembered the conversation he had with Damsy so long ago where they talked about their Father. It...colored his impression of the man, and the rest of the family. More so now than before he believed finding Damsy so loving and welcoming to his appearance was a fluke, one that wouldn't be shared by the rest of the people who shared their blood.​

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So why was he here? It had been so long since he's sensed Damsy, let alone seen her. Yet he felt her here? That can't be right. So why was he here? It felt like a compulsion. She wouldn't be here, yet he felt her here, so here he was. It didn't make any sense.​

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It had to be some kind of trick, as he approached the door and pushed it open.​

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So why was he here? He pushed the thought out of his mind. It didn't matter. He was here, Damsy wasn't here. He sighed and moved towards the sound of people. He'd find his Father and ask him directly instead of driving himself crazy wondering.​

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"This is a terrible plan. I'm going to go start an argument with my Father who can no doubt murder me without a second thought. Great. Love it. I hate it here." he mumbled to himself as he continued into the building, with each step the feeling of Damsy being here grew and, as it grew so too did his frustrations with Metus. But more then that, Rann was frustrated with himself. Even knowing his sister wasn't here, he came anyway. If this was a trap or a trick like he suspected, he fell right into it.​

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"Maybe he just wants to play catch. Do all those father things he's Twenty-five years too late to do. Heh." he continued to mumble as he passed by people to find his father. He wasn't going to make a scene, at least not a big one. But he'd get right up next to the man and ask him directly, quietly, what the hell his game was, and why Rann was there.​

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"Father. Where are you." He asked, scanning the room searching for his daddy dearest.​

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[Darth Metus]

T O G E T H E R​

Tag: Rann Thress , Darth Miseria, Damsy Callat , Aselia Verd , Haastal Haran , Redd

As the hour drew near for the gathering to begin, Darth Metus took a detour from the preparations.

Given how long it had been since so many of his family were under one roof, the Sith busied himself in supervising the preparations. He was not a "bridezilla" per se, but at the very least he wanted Netra'yaim to be presentable. He was fickle in some respects. Moveable in others. Mostly, the actions worked to keep the sensations in his stomach at bay - a cacophony of excitement and nerves. Family gatherings, for as gilded as the intentions, did have the tendency to go south for some. He sincerely hoped that would not be the case today.

Yet, just as the droids were getting into place for the music, Darth Metus stepped away from the Great Hall. His pace was brisk, for the deviation would not be long. In one moment, one could hear the echo of his boots sounded off upon the polished floors. In the next? He was gone. As if Akala had opened the Netherworld to swallow him whole once more. Unlike the Crisis, thankfully, the transition was willing. And the Sith soon found himself striding within a Vault of Glass. Primordial darkness swirled about his form - a hurricane of the Dark Side which screamed with a singular reality: Hunger.

Any sane soul would do whatever they could to avoid the wrathful winds. Any sane soul would have attempted to claw their way back to reality. Darth Metus was the furthest thing from sane - for his pace led him directly into the eye. There, he found a pallid creature. A feminine figure suspended within a coffin of crystal, just as he had found her so many months ago. When the Sith first met Darth Elyria, it was under far less civil circumstances. He had come into this very realm, before this very coffin, with a blade intended to slay her. Now, his hand dipped within the folds of his cloak to produce a gift.

The naked eye could only describe the mass as a crimson star. It seemed to pulsate within the man's grasp, like a beating heart. The offering was made, set upon the coffin, where its light bled through the crystal. And though meager, it served as sustenance for the one slumbering within. Ryloth...had been hard upon the woman. So hard in fact that it reduced a literal goddess to a form of somewhat slumber. She could still do much - feats far beyond his understanding. But in the present, she rested. And in the interim, he did his part. Such were the makings of a good mate. "I'll try to keep the noise down." he said, tone alive with his typical brand of bullchit. His dominant hand temporarily rested upon the coffin.

"Took you long enough."​

The woman's voice rattled within his skull, causing a boisterous chuckle to fall from his lips. Shaking his head, the Sith departed and set his attention back upon the preparations at hand. The howling winds were once again braved - and once more his footsteps manifested back into the realm of the living. Only this time, he was certainly not where he started. Instead of the Great Hall, his boots settled down within the rocky caverns of the Drake Den. "Dammit woman." he said under his breath, admittedly whilst smiling. Elyria had her own unique brand of bullchit too it seemed.

His spontaneous arrival unleashed his scent within the Den. And thus, all manner of creature and demon stirred in response to their sire. Where Damsy Callat was surely rising to being their Queen, the man responsible for their coming to be was something to be...feared. Regardless, the Sith's steps took him in the general direction of the lift - but before he could arrive, he set his sulfuric gaze upon the young Sithspawn. She had such a way with the creatures. Perhaps it was due to how similar their births were? A thought for another time. "Damsy." he said, above the various grunts and trills of the beasts. "Would you come with me? The others will be arriving soon."

Given how...tender the ice was between them, the Alor did not demand anything of his child. If she chose to abandon the embrace of the Leviathan and other creatures, she could certainly do so. He would tarry within the lift just long enough for her to make up her mind. And from thence, ascension occurred. The Great Hall had come together as intended. Music greeted his ears, as did the aroma of the finest meats and even finer strong drink. From one of the attendant droids orbiting about, the Sith claimed for himself a goblet filled with tihaar.

And before raising the beverage to his lips, he rose it in toast to those arriving. "Brothers! Sisters! My children! And dear friends, welcome to Netra'yaim. Please, make yourselves at home - for it has been far too long since we have been together under one roof." The response from those who had arrived was boisterous indeed. Cheers, Grunts, and the slamming together of drinks echoed within the Hall: the Party had begun. And amidst the faces trickling in, the Sith recognized many.

Haastal Haran , his brother and alor'ad, was on the way in with his guest Redd . Though afar, he did offer the man a proud smirk. If what he assumed was correct, then Darth Metus couldn't be happier for his sibling. The man deserved his nugget of joy in this chaotic Galaxy. Aselia Verd , too, was on the way inside - wearing a brand new suit of beskar'gam. Seeing such planted a seed in the Sith's mind: perhaps it was time he forged a newer suit as well. His train of thought immediately shifted to Darth Miseria, who was the most local of the kin. But before he could attempt to sus out her whereabouts, a figure strode about.

It was a face he knew. A man he knew. A son he had only learned of this year in fact: Rann Thress . Their eyes met across the room, and Darth Metus did not find joy or mirth staring back at him. In fact, what he could feel were the beginnings of something opposite. The beverage in his grasp was deposited upon another tray as he approached the man.

"Hello...son."​

 

[Haastal Haran]

Redd Darth Metus Aselia Verd Damsy Callat Rann Thress
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When Redd asked if she should remain on the ship, Haastal glanced back at the woman with an odd, almost comically dismissive expression on his face. "Stay with the me- Hell no." He said, shaking his head at her words as he felt her hand tighten around his. He looked at her, offering a playful smirk before tilting his head teasingly. "Damn, can do all that killin' and gettin' shy at a little family reunion?" He asked, before pulling the woman closer to him. "Look. No arena, no space, no fuckin' cage." He whispered to her before his hand came up to rub her shoulder. "My home is your home, ok? Relax baby." He told her, leaning forward to press a brief kiss to her lips.

When Haastal stepped into the hall, he could hear the music and smirked at it. His brother loved music just as much as he did, and liquor too. He glanced over the drinks that practically flowed from one part of the room to another. He eyed Redd pointedly. "Oh, yea. You're drinkin'." He said.

He hadn't taken another step before his eyes caught his brother's. Darth Metus never was an easy sight to see. Not because the man was a horror to look like, but because he was the only thing in the galaxy that made Haastal feel the subtle pang of guilt that was buried deep down. When the original Haastal Verd had died, Metus had been the man to receive the information. He'd heard of the life debt that was sworn and the first word he said to Haastal would live in his heart forever.

"Ner'vod, Oya!" He yelled out. Over the crowd, over the music, raising a fist in the air just as the Haastal before him would. He caught the knowing smile that Isley held and he returned it with one of his own. The Mandalorian tapped his fist on his chest, just over his heart before tilting his head to his party guest. It didn't matter if Isley saw the gesture or not, his elder brother already knew what was to be said.

Haastal breathed out as his eyes caught Rann Thress . There was more than a little stress between those two and Haastal was not looking to witness more of it. He took Redd's hand, leading her over to a table to sit down and take a moment to relax and draw it all in. "Here, have some of this." He said, taking a large cup of ale and holding it out to the woman. He moved to rest down into a seat before patting his lap at Redd. "Here, sit down for a bit." He invited her. He didn't wait for a reply, instead he took hold of her wrist, guiding her down onto his lap. The man adjusted, running a hand down under his armored chest. Haastal pulled a small, metal pendant from his neck, setting it on the table before looking up to Redd. "That's Isley, my brother. We'll let him chill for a bit then you can meet him if you want." He gestured to the man they'd greeted when he walked in. "For now, chill."

 

[Rann Thress]

R E U N I O N​

Wearing: Red CoOoOoAaAaAT

Tags: Darth Metus Damsy Callat​

It's him.

Rann could actually barely believe it, despite all reasoning telling him that, of course it would happen. He was face to face with his Father, Darth Metus.

Kill him. You'll never get a better chance. You will die if you try. Talk. Use words.

Suddenly all his bravado left him. Brave thoughts betrayed by cowardice actions. It was so easy to imagine you'd be brave until you're actually face to face with the person you imagine'd being brave against. Long story short, Rann just wasn't strong enough to be snarky towards this man.

"F-Father." He stammered, trying to find his courage. "Why...why do I sense Damsy?" Not quite what he had meant to ask, but he tried his best.

He cleared his throat and steeled his expression. He needed to be strong here. He couldn't let his Father intimidate him forever, that wouldn't do.

He'd respect you if you tried to kill him. You can't respect a corpse. He's responsible for you. He's responsible for us. He's to blame. Vengeance.

He sighed. He could tip-toe around the issue or he could just come out and get it over with. He blinked and looked Metus in his eyes.

"I wasn't going to come. But I sensed Damsy here. Someone I know has even more reason to not be here than I do. So I came to find out why I sense her, and I can't help but imagine you're involved."

Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to stop talking, turn around and leave. But foolhardiness was his dominant trait, and his pride wouldn't let him back down now, he was too far. He thought back to his conversations with Damsy.

"You give Father too much credit."
That's what she said. He remembered the hurt in her eyes, and that made him angry. That gave him the strength to continue this conversation.

"Damsy's not here." he said with certainty. There was just no way she would be. He had more he wanted to say. He wanted to unload a lifetimes worth of hatred and vitriol onto this man who biology demanded he call 'Father'. But he couldn't. Either lack of courage or self-preservation he didn't know. The false confidence he gained from speaking his mind would have given him the strength to complete his tirade, but he wouldn't be better for it.

He had nothing else to say. Nothing else he could say. Nothing else he wanted to say.
​

 

[Aselia Verd]

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H O M E​

"Brothers! Sisters! My children! And dear friends, welcome to Netra'yaim. Please, make yourselves at home - for it has been far too long since we have been together under one roof."

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She had barely entered the room when the booming voice of her father echoed through the hall, she calmly took off her helmet and placed it delicately under her arm as she moved further into the room her pace was deliberately slowed because in her excitement she wanted to run to him considering what news she had. Her eyes shot to the side as Haastal Haran shouted out and a wide grin played at the woman's lips as she continued toward her father until she saw him turn to look at another arrival, her eyes moved to the one she did not recognize.​

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Halting her advance she watched as the tension between the two men seemed to flood the room, she took another step and dropped her hand near her lightsaber until she heard the next words then this was a brother she did not know? She suppressed the look of surprise but stepped forward one more time looking to Rann Thress a little apologetically the interruption would be rude, but no less important. She broke in quickly and spoke "Forgive the interruption, brother." was all Rann would get before she directed her attention to Darth Metus himself, a hand reaching to a pouch on her belt before she produced a tightly wrapped bundle bound with the blackest cloth one had ever seen and held it out toward him both hands gripping it tightly as if fearing one might try to steal it from her.​

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The smile never left her face as she uttered the next words in mando'a "Buir, Ni cuyir yaim bal ner aka cuyir ani. Bic cuyir gar" she suspected most of those here had no idea what her mission had even been and what exactly she held in her hands but they would know, in time all would know when he was ready to show it.​

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Spoiler: Translation

Father, I am home and my mission is complete. It is yours

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TAG: Darth Metus Redd Damsy Callat Rann Thress
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[Redd]

FAMILY REUNION​

Tags: Haastal Haran | Darth Metus | Damsy Callat | Aselia Verd | Rann Thress​

The kiss had given her some reassurance but she still wondered if she was going to have to fight her way out of it all by the time the night was through and the wolf within paced. Even as they entered the hall, her green eyes shifted to golden as she listened and smelled all of the new scents that slammed into her like a cruiser ship would if it suddenly lost power and slammed into the planet’s surface. It took her a moment to shift through all of the scents as a frown descended upon her brow. There was one scent that was somewhat familiar and she was in the process of trying to work it out when Haastal told her that she was drinking.

A roll of her golden eyes was given at the notion. Sure, it would help her to relax and that was probably the idea that Haastal had in mind. However, the woman wasn’t so sure that she wanted her faculty’s dampened by the strange elixir of magick. Yet it seemed that every kind of social event, meant that everyone had to drink and she wondered if this was some kind of unwritten rule, or at least an unspoken one.

The sudden Mandalorian words had her gaze shifting back to Haastal then and she angled her head to the right. She understood what ’Oya’ stood for, but she wasn’t quite sure about ’ner’vod.’ It was a new word that she would quiz him about shortly, but her gaze traveled along Haastal’s line of sight and she spotted the Vicelord himself. Now she understood as to why a particular scent was familiar but hadn’t exactly raised any red flags. It was because she remembered him from Ryloth, right before the invasion when she had attended the Clansmoot with Gerwald, after he had admitted to her that an attack during the celebration was plausible but was uncertain.

Redd felt the man’s hand pull her attention away and towards a table where a drink was pushed into her hands and she felt the male’s commanding hands upon her hips. Hands that pulled her onto his lap and into the man’s warmth and scent that had become somewhat addicting to the lupine. Quietly, she took a sip of the mead, only to set it aside as she wrapped her arms around the male’s neck and nipped his bottom lip before he spoke again. Her golden eyes shifted to view the Vicelord, who it seemed had many people interested in him; one female had joined the other two males and seemed to be offering the Vicelord something which was wrapped up in black cloth.

”I know the Vicelord… Well, Isley as you call him.” She paused as her hand lightly reached out to lightly touch the pendant on the table. ”Well, I don’t know him exactly. I was on Ryloth with the Clansmoot. To accompany the Dread Guard, Gerwald, Astrid, Jason and some other woman. One with short black hair and white ends. I don’t believe she gave a name, just stood in the shadows. In any case. I was wondering why I could smell such a familiar scent and now I know why. The Vicelord is your brother?” The wolf asked as she looked back at the crowd that was quickly gathering around Isley and she took a chance to lightly bite Haastal on the neck. Which coincidentally, was how she remembered her earlier question.

”What does ner’vod mean? I don’t believe that it is a word that we have covered yet.” She murmured as she pulled back slightly to view the male’s face for a moment. Although she asked him this question, the wolf wasn’t blind, nor was she unfeeling. Redd knew the backstory between the original Haastal and the new Haastal. He had also told her about how Isley had welcomed the now Haastal. Which was why she herself was making sure to comfort the male, even though the woman felt nerves of unease pinging off in the back of her skull. So every touch and every nip was not something that she did for herself, but she did for Haastal. To keep him present and to not let him fall into the ghosts of the past. A habit that herself had also been guilty of from time to time.​

​

 

[Damsy Callat]

BITTERSWEET​

Tags: Darth Metus Rann Thress Aselia Verd Redd Haastal Haran​

She sighed as she, too, smelled her father in her midst. The beasts' fear was split between te two Verds, she could tell, just as she understood that it was split unevenly between the father and the daughter. Everything was set to be a struggle, a challenge. She was not annoyed by it though, but raring to take it, and in such overtake him.

Then he spoke her name. After, came a simple question. She might have declined his offer hadn't she gotten all dolled up intending to dwell among others beside the creatures of the keep. Without outward hesitation, Damsy abandoned her search for her father's side. Inside the turbolift, even, she exuded not an ounce of angst but surety, pride, and barely-dormant lividity. All hung in the air, enveloping the slighted sithspawn like a heavy perfume.

Immediately as the lift's door slid open to reveal them to the Great Hall's assembly, Damsy peeled away from Metus without as much of a backwards glance. She settled herself beside one of the banquet tables near its end to listen to his booming introduction. During she reached down to grab a...something alcoholic. The water content wasn't fresh and therefore posed no allergic threat to her; That was all that mattered, rather than the beverage's exact name. As she took a taste, the world around her seemed to slow. The music and chatter of unknown kin faded. Her sight narrowed in a sense though she saw the same as ever.

The drink? No.

The answer rang in her ears, amplified by the Dark - Rann - but not as a name, as his own words directed at the half which connected them to each other:

"I wasn't going to come. But I sensed Damsy here. Someone I know has even more reason to not be here than I do. So I came to find out why I sense her, and I can't help but imagine you're involved."

After all this time, he was looking for her? Damsy set down her glass, blinking. Omega's funeral on Fennesa had been a lifetime, at least the five she had lost to Rodia, ago.

She began walking in the direction of the disturbance in the Force. With some distance, the world focused out again, back to normal, and the scene became real. She could hear Rann speak with her ears, not her mind:

"Damsy's not here."

"Brother," she replied as she broke through the final few guests dividing them. He looked good, and not just because of his snappy red coat. "You, again, give Father too much credit." Isley Verd was many things to her, one of which a man trying desperately to make up time he had lost to an old version of himself. She herself might have reviled that side, but because she recognized it as truth. If of one thing she could be certain, it would be that the alor would consciously do nothing further to ostracize his children.

Hell, Damsy was living proof of that because, with all her palpable hatred, he let her not only live but be.

 

[Darth Miseria]

F A M I L Y

Darth Metus | Rann Thress | Damsy Callat | Aselia Verd | Haastal Haran | Redd ​

Krant was her home. It was where she had been born. It was where she had lived the past five years of her life. Nurturing it and growing it as though it were her own child. The position of viceroy came with a lot of responsibility, and Dianah had given up a lot to make it work, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Dianah had been in a frenzy from the moment her father had announced his desire to get all the family together. Under one roof. Of course, it just had to be hers. ​

​

​

Since the construction of Netra’Yaim Dianah had made it her permanent residence. It was a frequent home to any and all aliit Verd, no matter where or who they came from, no matter how far they had travelled. Dianah, being the ever outgoing and charming woman she was, very much enjoyed the company. But something like this? All the clan, together? It was bound to be wild. ​

​

People had begun to fill out the halls. The corridors were alive with the soft hum of conversation, and not a single soul was without a drink in their hand. Dianah was extremely pleased. She clung mostly to the sidelines as her father made his speech, but she did raise a glass with her nearest family to toast his words. She had been begging for something like this since she knew the words to express it. Dianah swayed over to the group gathering around her father, one hand clutching her own glass of sweet smelling, sticky black liquid. Like father, like daughter.​

​

Just as she reached the group, placing a welcoming hand on her father’s arm, another presence saw fit to make itself known. A woman Dianah had called a sister for as long as she had been alive. “Damsy!” How long had it been since they’d seen each other last? An age to be sure. Dianah was pleased to see she had grown into herself. She didn’t recognize the other man, but she was certain she had heard her father call him son, and Damsy had addressed him as brother. So Dianah offered him a smile. A warm, friendly smile that she saved only for the company of family.​

 

[Haastal Haran]

Redd Darth Metus Darth Miseria Rann Thress Damsy Callat
​

"Yea. I mentioned he's the Vicelord, right?" The sad thing? That's just the type of thing that Haastal would forget to mention. He took a large mug of the cool amber ale from the table and brought it to his lips, downing a few nice gulps of the beer. After drinking some of it down, he sighed a bit while listening to Redd explain where she'd seen Isley. When Redd slid down onto Haastal's lap the Mandalorian set his own mug down before looking up to her expectantly. She had a habit of placing tiny, affectionate bites on the man. Something he enjoyed immensely, though it was more because of her wolven form than anything.

Redd asked just what Ner'vod means, only seconds after brushing her hands against the pendant in his hand. He pulled his hand back from her, keeping it concealed from her sight as he turned her, so that her back was to him. "Brother." He told her as he swept her red hair from her shoulders. A Beskar-crafted Mythosaur skull fell down above Redd's chest as Haastal fastened the token around her neck. "Keep this with you ok?" He pressed his lips to the curve in her back before leaning back and taking his mug back into his hand.

More and more people walked around Isley and it caused the man to chuckle a bit. "Isley has a lot of kids. In the Mandalorian culture you can take people into your clan, raise them as your own. Isley does that a lot more than most others. They call him buir which essentially means father."

Haastal downed a bit more of the ale before looking up to the woman in his lap. "He hosts these events every few years because the House is so damned spread out. Most of us are in Confederate space, but not all of us. Stronger together. That's what he keeps tellin' us." He said, before shrugging at the thought. "But still...Seems like something else. With all the fightin' thats been goin' on and what happened at Ryloth and Rodia. I think he just needs family around. Bein' the boss isn't easy, bein' the Vicelord? Fuck." He muttered, drinking down some more of the ale. "Anyway, you hungry? I can go find a live bantha or somethin' for you?" He teased Redd, his lips curling up into a smirk.

 

[Darth Metus]

R E U N I O N​

Tag: Rann Thress , Darth Miseria, Damsy Callat , Aselia Verd , Haastal Haran , Redd

Ner'vod, Oya!

Though the reunion had only just begun, the din of armored bodies entering Netra'yaim had almost drowned out the voice of Haastal Haran . Yet, fortune would have it that the man's greeting reached the ears of his sibling. To this, Darth Metus raised his beverage in response, careful not to slosh it about too much. The Mandalorian was not alone this day, and was accompanied by a familiar face. Redd . The Alor recognized her immediately - but moreover, recognized where Haastal's hand was located. That was what he liked to see. The man who had assumed Achilles' life debt was entitled to happiness. So too did everyone who joined them on Krant.

Especially his children.

So it was that Darth Metus settled his gaze upon his son, Rann Thress . So it was that the Father came face-to-face with the decisions of his past. When he was a far younger man, his days were spent in battle, and his nights were spend in beds. Such was the lifestyle typical of their people. Fight and Feth, with little regard for the consequences. Beyond this, Darth Metus had a rather horrendous streak when it came to lasting relationships. Both marriages of his life ended in divorce. Nothing positive came of his great loves or flings - save for the offspring which graced his life.

History would look upon the man's accomplishments more than his personal flaws. History would remember the man who founded the Mandalorian Empire and the Confederacy, but not the man who had spent a pitiful amount of time in the role which mattered most: Father. It was fortunate then that the Alor had spent years attempting to do just that. Attempting to live differently than the gaze of history. This was the one thing that Damsy gave him credit for, on rare occasion: trying.

And here, he would try, try again.

Rann spoke, his voice stammering for a moment. There was no wrath found in his tone. No accusations. Nothing save for a focus upon his sibling. In turn, Darth Metus parted his lips, as if to answer, as if to say that Damsy was indeed present. Yet, prior to his being able to, his beskar-clad daughter joined them. She spoke, uttering the language of their people whilst producing a bundle of black cloth. The mission was complete. To say that the mean's heart did not skip a beat at the news would have been an understatement. The Alor reached out and took the bundle in hand...and what he could feel underneath the cloth was unmistakable. The hilt was iconic, ancient, and one that he had repaired with his own hands long ago.

When Mandalore had turned their backs on House Verd, he had released the weapon into the stars. And now it had found its way back. He smiled, stifling a chuckle before reaching out with his dominant hand and settled it behind the mass of crimson hair found on Aselia's head. Briefly, he planted his lips to her brow, before beaming. "You've made your father proud today. Made us all proud." came his response, uttered in Mando'a. He would have returned to Basic in that moment. Would have tried to explain that Damsy was here - but she announced her presence herself.

Though they had parted ways following the lift up, she returned - not for him, but for Rann. The fact that the siblings had some semblance of a relationship...for some reason, a sense of relief settled in the pit of his stomach. At least they have one another was the thought which popped to mind. And in the next moment? Another arrival. Another child. Darth Miseria, joined them in short order - exuding pure excitement at seeing her sister again. For but a moment, the Sith felt a pang of worry, followed by a heap of guilt.

Dianah was one of the few he had been able to raise. One of the few who had seen him considerably, unlike the others. Would this be a source of animosity between them? Would they loathe her for having a chance they didn't? The sins of the father were piling, and he buried his thoughts immediately. "I don't think I've ever had you all together like this before." he remarked, quietly. The tone which colored his words was not the baritone of the man who spat in the face of Death. Or the man who led the Mandalorians. Or any of his other accomplishments.

It was the voice of a man awe-struck by a gift he received, but honestly did not deserve. Four of his children were with him. Four. When did this last occur? He could not fathom. But here they were. Composure was difficult.

"Son." he said, after clearing his throat. What do you say to one who had spent a lifetime apart from you? Where could one even begin? He paused long enough to settle the bundle inside his belt. "These are your siblings." He then motioned to each, one after the next. "Aselia, Dianah, and you already know Damsy it seems. Quite well."

He looked upon his son. Looked upon his armor-clad Aselia. Looked upon his faithful Dianah. Looked upon his liberated Damsy. And the following words slipped from his soul.

"I'm sorry."​

 

[Redd]

FAMILY REUNION​

Tags: Haastal Haran | Darth Metus | Darth Miseria | Rann Thress | Damsy Callat | Aselia Verd​

A growl was quick to her lips as the male turned her around upon his lap. She wanted to keep giving him her small snippets of affection, but the woman listened when Haastal explained Ner’vod and her head angled to the right. ”Like Gerwald is for me. He is my… ner’vod.” The woman whispered as she tried to gain a better understanding of the word, but her attention was drawn to the fact that a Beskar-crafted Mythosaur skull pendant now graced her neck and her left rose to lightly touch the pendant that rested upon her chest. Redd had almost missed the fact that he had told her to keep it with her, but she nodded her head in quiet understanding. For some reason it seemed as if it might be something that could be worth something, or at the very least, it was a symbol amongst those gathered. Otherwise, why ask that she keep this with her?

To her, it was almost like a wolf, masking or marking its territory so then someone else couldn’t take it from them. Mates also usually marked their partners with their scent and if another lupine were to come across Haastal, she was sure that they would smell her all over him. Sometimes the wolves of her pack went as far as biting them and leaving bite marks all over their Mate’s neck. A physical claim laid bare for all to see, so then no one could dispute it. To an outsider, it had been a strange tradition, but this was because mates didn’t go through the usual human process of marriage. It was the way of her pack and it was what it was. Redd wouldn’t apologize for it.

The wolf listened to Haastal’s words, but she quietly reached out to fetch her mug of mead to take a sip. She remembered the taste all too well and she wondered not for the first time, about how drunk she would get upon this night. However, as she raised the cup to her lips for a second sip, she heard Haastal mention a live bantha and Redd perked a brow in response. Slowly, she smirked behind her mug as her golden gaze watched the people flock around the Vicelord, but her words were whispered softly enough so then only Haastal could hear her. ”If you’re not careful enough, I’ll just devour you in front of everyone here. I’ll even use my teeth.”

She had a soft giggle at her own words as she felt the drink begin to slowly relax her nerves, even though it seemed as if she still felt a little on edge. The wolf could sense the tension and could feel something, but she wasn’t at all sure about what it was. Which was probably why she herself remained tense. So, she decided to try to distract herself with a small tale of her pack. ”The Vicelord… Isley…” Hell, what was she supposed to call him now? The woman shook her head and moved on, ”Even wolves know that they are strongest when they are together. They even know that it is better to hunt in packs, rather than alone. It is why lone wolves rarely survive on their own. For the strength of a pack vastly outnumbers the strength of a lone wolf and yet…” Redd’s head angled slightly to the right as she watched those that crowded around The Vicelord, ”I’m sensing that something is not quite right with this pack.”

Golden eyes watched every tense muscle within those that were gathered around The Vicelord and she even saw the small wrinkles that graced someone’s face when they smiled. Yet it were the words that she heard the most and the varied tones that caught her attention. ”I don’t actually think that I understand as to what happened on Rodia or Ryloth.” Redd said with a frown, but then then again, she hadn’t heard from Gerwald since then either. She did wonder as to what happened to Gerwald, did he blame himself for what happened to her on Rodia? Redd questioned herself as her golden eyes focused then upon one particular figure that she also recognised. Damsy. It had been a brief introduction done by her brother, but she’d recognised the scent anywhere. Once she caught hold of a scent, it would never be forgotten.

Slowly, the wolf lifted the mug to her lips, only to realize that she was all out of mead. Well chit. Redd twisted her head so then she could view Haastal once more and her free hand lifted to lightly drag her nails down his cheek. ”Lets go get something to eat and I would shift, but I doubt you’ll want your family to see the teeth and claws come out. Or maybe I should, it might scare a couple of those that are gathered over there.” She said while a smirk curved her lips. ​

​

 

[Rann Thress]

R E U N I O N​

Wearing: AH YOU KNOW IT DAT RED COAT​

Tags: Damsy Callat - Darth Metus - Darth Miseria - Aselia Verd - Redd - Haastal Haran​

​

​

"Damsy?" Rann stared at his sister dumbfounded. "I-" he blinked, not believing his eyes.​

​

He turned back to look at his Father, Darth Metus . As much as he wanted to, he couldn't make the logic leap to accuse Metus of this being another trick.​

​

He turned back towards Damsy. "I....can you blame me?" He said, eyes still wide with disbelief. "Of all places I'd think to see you, this'd be the last. Hell this wasn't even on the list!" He looked back towards the others coming to congregate around them.​

​

His family.​

He gulped. Suddenly he felt very sheepish and embarrassed. He came in here with a righteous anger. He felt, he knew he was correct, he had the moral high ground, that all he lacked was the confidence to tell his father what he thought. Yet it turned out Rann was the sleemo after all.​

​

"I uh... I'm sorry." He said to his Father. One thing he prided himself on was the ability to recognize when he was in the wrong, and take responsibility for it. Regardless of anything else Metus may have done, he didn't do this and thus, deserved an apology.​

​

"These are your siblings. Aselia, Dianah, and you already know Damsy it seems. Quite well."

​

He sighed and turned to the rest of his family, his sisters. "Aselia, Dianah. Pleasure to meet you. I'm Rann." He forced a smile. It might have been a more genuine one had he not just been embarrassed like that. And Metus definitely earned a bit of his gratitude by not taking the opportunity to publicly destroy Rann. Or at least, give him a well-deserved public smackdown. One Rann would just have to sit there and take. But he didn't. This didn't match up with the stories or Rann's preconceived notion.​

​

So far, first impressions, first real impressions have been positive. Isley Verd, so far, was not the six horned devil with hated and disdain oozing out of his skin that Rann thought he was. And if he ever was, he wasn't now, or at least wasn't showing it now.​

​

Was he a saint? Probably definitely not. You don't earn a "Darth" title by being a good person. But then again, Rann supposed being 'good' was all relative.​

​

But what even did he say about his short past with Damsy? That they'd met after Rodia, mourned together on Fennesa? That she very well could be the only reason Rann was alive? Did he even need say it? Did his Father need to know?​

​

"Damsy's been a good sister to me." All he could say. He turned his head to Damsy and his smile disappeared. He looked down. For all he tried to preach reason and restraint, he had strolled in here ready for some climactic showdown full on Anger on Damsy's behalf. Even if Metus was partially responsible for Rann's....condition. Allowing that to color their relationship, his opinion on Metus, or his actions concerning him would only doom Rann to destruction and destroy everything he'd worked so hard to gain.​

​

Like a thermal detonator, the rage inside Rann exploded, and then died out. Whether it was knowing he was wrong in his anger, or seeing Damsy again after believing that he would either A) have been dead, or B) just never saw her again, whether it was the welcome he's thus far received by someone he thought would hate him, and vice verse, or if it was the warm reception or at least not instant rejection he feared he'd get from his other siblings. If it was any of these, all of these, or none of these, Rann didn't know. All he did know, at least for the moment,​

​

He wasn't angry anymore.​

​

 

[Damsy Callat]

T R A P P E D​

Tags: Rann Thress Aselia Verd Haastal Haran Darth Miseria Redd​

Damsy's nod was a minuscule movement itself, but accentuated by the downward and upward sweep of her eyes over her sister. She remembered the Shi'ido from Sahet'yaim (Sinners' Well) years ago. How far Damsy had come since the Pod, indeed. Even back as far as the last family gathering, which had admittedly been quite some time for a family to be apart but not for a sithspawn to forget her many scorns, she couldn't walk unaided by bionic leg exoskeletons or another. That other had typically been Allya Vi'Dreya . Damsy afforded herself but a a moment to wonder on her sister's whereabouts before she forced the name of the one before her, addressing her, from her lips: "Hello, Dianah."

Darth Metus didn't fear the half of it. The part he did - that Damsy might hate her for her at-least-relatively loving childhood in the arms of her flesh and blood father rather than an HRD droid made to his image by Kaminoan ingenuity and apathy - was far from the spawn's mind. In truth, she didn't know Dianah well enough nor care to to realize that the now-viceroy had had a better start into life. A step on a fully-formed foot, compared to Damsy's flick of an underdeveloped tail fin.

But rather, what Damsy knew and therefore reviled her shapeshifting sister for was the pure blood that afforded her such choice of metamorphs. Damsy only had the two - Human and Shark - but Dianah had freedom. Complete and utter. And, even if she didn't, Damsy assumed so, and that was worth more than what the truth might have been to her. What was even more? Dianah changes were seamless and effortless both, in direct contrast to Damsy's pained metamorphosis.

She sought out Rann's hand, in an attempt to both comfort him and distract herself. "Of course I don't blame you," she said, much sincerer in comfort to him than in greeting to the other Darth beside their father. "'m only saying so." Then he mentioned that he hadn't expected to see her here. His presupposition was right, or rather had been, before recent events had seen fit to unfold. She had agreed to stay in Castle Black at first for the benefit of her men in Omega Squad, but then an Exarch's subpoena had come in the form of armed guards. Adron Malvern had seen fit to be a beneficial judge and jury, but not of his own volition.

Six months house arrest for six months of absence without leave. That was the price of her disrespectful insubordination, plus the shedding of her title, but the last sentence felt even better than all of her promotions put together had.

And, for once, she was glad she was the Vicelord's daughter. She didn't want to be babysat, no, but she also didn't want to rot in a brig cell.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Sean-Olc Robes


Taramaz leaned back as he eased off the throttle of his Knights Obsidian-Issue Spectre-Interceptor, slowing it in it's rapid flight through the Gloom along the Southern Approach towards Netra'yaim, the Black Citadel that dominated the horizon infront of him. His grip on the throttle tightening as he grew ever nearer the spacious hangar that would accommodate his rather sleek, if bland, starship.

He brought the throttle back fully, engaging the landing thrusters and guiding the streamlined starfighter into the hangar, parking it in an open spot and popping the cockpit. He slowly extracted his lanky form the cramped cockpit and let out an exasperated, silent sigh of relief. Interceptors were... definitely not an enjoyable method of travel.

Perhaps he should've taken the time to requisition a Scythe-Frigate... he might've if he had the time, but roaming the exact definition of the middle of Confederate space proved to make oneself most uncontactable. Besides, it would have been rather too grand to arrive in a five hundred metre vessel compared to the eight metre interceptor he found himself curled up in.

Merciful ancestors know it would have been more comfortable...

As his brief period of stretching finally came to a close, he found himself walking towards an elevator. Not this one for any particular reason other than it was the furthest from his ship and offered the most opportunity for him to stretch his legs. His ankle-height robes flowing ever so slightly with a light draft blowing in from the hangar, or perhaps an air conditioner or open window.

Silent steps echoed throughout the hangar as Taramaz marched into the elevator, glancing briefly at the buttons and raising a hand to allow the Force to guide him, for the Hell of it. He looked away and pressed a button, which coincidentally happened to be the button for the Great Hall. It had been far too long since he had socialised with the Clan... even if he wasn't recognised as an official member of it.

Almost humourous, in a way. He counted himself among the Vi'dreya and Verd families, yet one of them he was almost positively sure he wasn't a member of by direct-blood relations. What was yet more ironic, was that any major commitment he seemed to develop was never truly committed. He had spent much of his young life, and all of his adult life learning the ways of the Sith and dedicating himself to be a killing machine worthy of bearing the title Dark Lord of the Sith...

Yet it was all lacklustre. He had become Darth Laurs, yet he was never considered a true sith. He was born into the Vi'dreya family, he could claim to be a mandalorian, but he would never be Mandalorian as the family was. Though... those were all relatively irrelevant. After all, he was still apart of the family, no? Regardless of his height or rather uniquely pale complexion.

Did it truly matter that where the others were dark, he was light? That where others eyes blazed with the golden fire of the Sith, his shone snowy-silver? It shouldn't have, he told himself that it didn't, and mayhaps it truly didn't. Yet it was a small tidbit of thought he could never get rid of, particularly during family gatherings such as this. A thought he truly hated, to feel the notion that one might not belong in their own family was... sickening.

​

 

[Aselia Verd]

​

H O M E​

She watched closely for his reaction, the search had been long having kept her away for so long, so many worlds she had scoured dug through the muck and slain creature after creature that had gotten in her way and in some cases people too. But at last, it was in his hands and she would have to wait no longer to see what his reaction would be she watched in silent anticipation as he took hold of the bundle there was only a moment of hesitance but then he claimed it as he should and then he laughed and she smiled as if she had won an award.​

​

Her smile widened followed by a bit of surprise by what followed the touch of his hand on her head was one thing but when he kissed her forehead her face flushed a bit with embarrassment and she suddenly wished her helmet were on, she cleared her throat before she spoke once more in Mando'a "Ni dasa'na par naas ori'shya at ijaa ner buir". She gave a firm nod to him and took a step back so that he could speak to those who needed him right now​

​

She looked to Rann Thress and switched to basic "Apologies for the interruption, welcome home brother" she gave a smile and nod to her sisters before she retreated back into the room in search of a chair and a drink and in short order she found both in the corner of the room and finally sat down her helmet.​

TAG: Darth Metus Rann Thress Damsy Callat Redd Haastal Haran Darth Miseria
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