Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Junction The Brosi Bash | TSC & TSO Junction of Empty Hex and Ord Providence


obj1.png

Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin
Mention: Calyx Sundrift Calyx Sundrift
Fit Check
Arris crushed the rest of her smoke between metal fingers, grinding it down into black ash.

'Why can't Arris Windrun be your role?'

The cyborg snickered a little. And what role would that be, exactly? She mused - self-mocked, really. Because Arris Windrun was a killer and a thug. A war criminal responsible for not one, but two massacres in the Core. The immensity of her own guilty conscience made moments like these surreal, rather than enjoyable. Because why should - no, how could - someone like her flip the switch and enjoy poolside drinks among 'friends?'

That Quinn wanted to know more made Arris deeply uncomfortable. What was there to know except ugliness?

But then the Echani said something so baffling that it pulled the Talusian out of her gloom.

"G-Girlfriend?"
She repeated, quite loudly.

Quinn continued to explain, and then on top of that, she appeared to offer bribery with a touch along the jaw.

When Her Highness leaned in, Arris could already taste it. Her cybernetic heart picked up a beat, then two, then ten, as flashes of Abregado-rae, Humbarine, and Coruscant came rushing back.

"Another taste..."

Arris didn't even realize she muttered it aloud.

She looked at Quinn, eyes sunken in consideration... but the choice was already made.

"Yeah - okay." She answered. "I can pretend to be your girlfriend. Just don't expect me to be a good one."

The cyborg stayed close. Very close. Unaware of Calyx's prying eyes. From his perspective, it probably looked quite intimate how Windrun's lips hovered near Quinn's. Waiting. Wondering.

"How do we do this?"

She just wanted a way to feel good again. A way that didn't involve murder.

 
Relationship Status: It's Complicated

obj1.png
WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Naedira Darcrath Naedira Darcrath

The question drew a quiet breath from him, and for just a moment Gerwald watched the waves curl against the shore before they disappeared into the sand.

Would he ever stop trying?

He didn't know.

Not because he believed she was broken. She wasn't. Whatever had been taken from her had not diminished the woman beside him. It had simply left wounds neither of them knew how to heal. As long as there was another path to search, another answer to find, another impossible thing to believe in, he suspected he would always choose to walk it. But hope had become a dangerous thing.

Hope had driven him across a decade of grief.

Hope had brought Naedira home.

Hope had also carried the quiet fear that perhaps the Empress had been right when she warned there were things even she could not restore.
Gerwald let that thought drift away with the tide before it could take root.

"I can always hope she was wrong," he said quietly, his gaze lingering on the horizon. Naedira would know who he meant. "I've learned not to underestimate what time can do."

His fingers tightened gently around hers as they reached the edge of the surf. Cool water washed over his feet before retreating once more.
When she asked if he would remember for her, he turned fully toward her. There was no hesitation.

"I already do."

The answer was simple because it was true.
For years he had carried memories she no longer could. Not because he had expected to need them one day, but because every one of them had belonged to the life they had built together. They were his as much as hers.

"And if there comes a day when you need them again," he continued, his thumb brushing across her knuckles, "I'll tell you every story you ask for. I'll probably tell you a few you don't ask for, too."

Another wave washed over their feet before slipping quietly back into the sea.

"You asked for a story."

His eyes drifted toward the lights of the resort, though they quickly gave way to another evening entirely. He could almost hear the music again beneath the murmur of conversation, see the balcony overlooking the dance floor, and feel the weight of two glasses in his hands. The years between then and now quietly disappeared, and when he spoke again there was a warmth in his voice that belonged as much to the memory as it did to the woman standing beside him.

"There was a reception much like this one. We'd already known each other for a while by then, and somehow we ended up standing together on a balcony overlooking the dance floor. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation I realized I had no idea what you liked to drink. It struck me that I knew all these important things about you, but not something so simple, so I excused myself and ordered two drinks. A whiskey… and some overly sweet cocktail that looked like something I'd never willingly order for myself."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

"When I came back, I handed them to you. You took the whiskey without even looking at the other glass. That left me with the cocktail."

His smile lingered.

"After a while you asked me to dance. I told you that I didn’t know how to dance. I insisted on it. You called me a liar."

He shook his head, still amused by it after all these years.

"You always knew when I was lying. Even then, before our bond had become what it is now, it was already there between us. Somehow you always knew."

His free hand settled naturally against her waist as though the memory itself had guided it there.

"So we danced. I don't remember what song was playing. I couldn't tell you who else was in the room, or what anyone else was wearing. I only remember you. I remember dipping you, and when you looked back up at me…"

He smiled to himself. The pause was not intentional. It betrayed that he was lost in the memory he carried for them both.

"You had this look in your eyes. I've spent years trying to find words for it, and I still can't. Whatever I saw in that moment reached somewhere inside me I didn't know existed."

His golden eyes settled on hers.

"That was when I realized I loved you."

There was no sadness in the confession. Time had stripped away every regret, leaving only gratitude that life had eventually carried them back to one another.

"You belonged to another then. I knew nothing could come of it, so I finished the ridiculous cocktail you had left me, wished you a good evening, and convinced myself the feeling would pass."

He smiled, giving the smallest shake of his head.

"It never did."

Another wave curled around their ankles as his fingers intertwined with hers once more.

"So now, whenever we're somewhere like this, I order both."

The warmth in his smile turned playful.

"I suppose a part of me is still hoping you'll steal the whiskey from me one more time."
 
cc5373d7eb95e7f47abdfefc9d37491ae5472274.pnj

"I can pretend to be your girlfriend. Just don't expect me to be a good one."

Arris seemed to think for just a moment. A rather short moment that caught Quinn off guard. Either Arris was interested in doing this facade, or she was more interested in what Quinn was offering. Either would be par for the course for the Echani. People either wanted to own her or own what she could offer.

A part of her felt a bit saddened at the fact that Arris was unlike the others. The need, the desire, or whatever drove the Cyborg to accept the offer was the same.

Though the disappointment never showed on the woman's face. She was good at the mask, good at pretending everything was fine. Pretending was easier than actually feeling. Like Arris, the woman played her part — today she decided to be the Sith Princess with a loaded gun.

Arris was part distraction and part companion.

She leaned in, and Quinn smiled.

"You want more?" Quinn asked coyishly as she let her fingers trail gently down the synthskin that covered Arris' chin. She would never figure out how they got it to feel so real, but knowingly unnatural at the same time. She sought the warmth of touch, but this would do for the time being.

Quinn enjoyed this, enjoyed the focus being on her — someone almost longing for what she had to offer. The words of her agreement echoed in the back of her mind. She had to do her best not to scoff at the thought of her ever experiencing someone good for her. But she didn't; she kept her thoughts to herself. Arris would pretend to be something familiar for the Echani.

"I'm sure you'll do perfectly." Quinn leaned in, her lips just a whisper from Arris'

"Just like before…" As she finished speaking, the black wisps of the dark side lingered, trailing from the Echani's lips. She hadn't fully figured out how to focus the influence on one person without feeding it to them. But with the temptation that Arris provided, the small break from her own loneliness, Quinn took full advantage.

Her free hand rested gently on the Cyborg's chest, fingers suddenly gripping at the thin fabric of her shirt, pulling her closer as the hand that was on Arris' face held her close the moment their lips met.

It wasn't the same hit as during the fight, but it was enough to fuel every ounce of the Telusian's cybernetic body. With each hit, the darkness had learned where to go, what to push and what to pull at. The power bled into her circuitry like a warm embrace; it continued to learn, and continued to breathe dark life into the woman.

The kiss, it was warm, almost gentle compared to the rush of the drug Arris had found herself addicted to. As the connection deepened, more of the power that the Cyborg craved bled through the intimacy of the kiss. Quinn, only wanting the small validation of her existence, fought against breaking it, but eventually, their lips parted.

It was evident what would provide more of this drug, but Quinn needed to see the effects of what she had just given before she thought about letting Arris have more.

Her thumb brushed against Arris' lower lip as she smirked.

"How do you feel?"

Quinn asked carefully, as she stayed close. She wondered if Arris would be brave enough to ask for more, or inquire how to be given more.

How much was too much?
 



VARIN MORTIFER



Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber | Wyrmfang​

The pat on the shoulder caused him to arch his brow as he looked at the now swaying Neti woman. Kivah spoke first after A’mia asked them of what their goals for the future were, and Varin listened quietly. The answer was interesting. Almost seemingly incomplete. Varin’s finger tapped over the side of his glass before he spoke.

“Most ambitions lead to ruling the Sith for their own gain, their own vision. That their vision is the only one that matters and that all else is wrong or straying away from the path that is the Sith.”

Varin started off. His voice calm and quiet.

“Infighting runs rampant as is our nature. But my goals lie in unifying the Sith. Forming stronger bonds over common enemies.”

He took a slow sip of his drink before he continued.

“I see battles waged over our own, leaders tear at each other's throats. I see armies that are built on fear and hatred that leads to weak loyalty.”

He looked around at the area before him, the conversations, the laughing and the intermingling.

“I feel events such as these are good for morale, but are also a breeding ground for espionage.”

He looked back at Kivah and A’mia.

“I guess you could say, my goals and my ambitions would be an impossibility. Maybe even downright foolish. Conquest and glory have their own merits, but what good are they when the future remains the same as the present? I don’t seek to rule the Sith, I simply seek change. As many others say they do, yet they hesitate.”

And hesitation always brought death.

The words rang in his mind as he thought on them silently. An answer he elected to give, even though it was not the full answer. He was not foolish. Though he wanted change and unity amongst the Sith it would be foolish to fully lay out his goals in front of so many faces, regardless of their familiarity.

Varin took a small breath and quirked up a small smirk.

“How about you Lady A’mia?”


 
Tag: Skadi Lightbane Skadi Lightbane Aerik Lechner Aerik Lechner

Sybil nodded as they both agreed to let her join them. The sith pureblood stood there she wasn't much of a hunter of game but she wanted to feel the thrill of combat so she would follow their lead during the hunt for their prey whatever that was as she followed behind a couple of feet to let them lead. The jungle air did feel wonderful compared to arenas and ships as she didnt take charge and didnt want to take charge. Her gun strapped to her back and her lightsaber on her hip as she whent with them.
 




Revna’s beautiful cousin seemed to hang on to every word that the little Marr shared with her, her ruby eyes watching with rapt attention. She nodded along with approval with what Revna had to say, the titles and possible outcomes she could achieve in the future. Sophia remarked how dramatic it was, but of course - who didn’t love a little drama? Revna mostly agreed there - except for the fact that she had lived most of that drama and didn’t care to repeat the past.

Her little comment about becoming Sith Empress (maybe) brought out a small laugh from Sophia.
"Don't tempt fate…The galaxy can barely survive those two." she said with a gesture towards the other Sith Empresses that had come to the party. Revna cast her view towards Srina and Mercy and watched the duo with a hint of care that flickered over her face.

She wondered what Sophia might say if she discovered that Revna and the Core Empress had shared a rather fiery kiss. She decided that was better kept to herself, however. She didn’t need word getting out that she was running around smooching Empresses or whatnot.

"You realize…That means you'd have to kill them. One, at least. Or both. Yeaaaah…Probably both."

Revna snorted and almost spat out the mouthful of deliciously strong cocktail sip she had just consumed. She cleared her throat after a moment, and wiped her chin from a stray dribble of drink, before giving Sophia a stare.

Oh feth that. Like I could kill either one of them, or that I’d really want to. My Master would sure be pleased if I did though…” She stirred her drink thoughtfully, a small and very amused expression on her face. “But you know…I live to be a perpetual pain in His ass so I will have to continue to disappoint Him on that matter.

When the conversation shifted to Revna’s personal interactions with the King, Sophia practically hyper-focused on everything her petite cousin was saying, drinking in every little bit that Revna shared. And, just as Revna suspected might happen, her ruby eyed cousin locked in on the more…naughty topic that had been mentioned. Revna leaned in and smirked at Sophia when the other wiggled her perfectly arched black eyebrows and gave a small squealing laugh at the mere topic at hand.

"Revna Marr…I knew you were my favorite cousin. You little cad. But…If he's not coming home enough, entice him, you know—", Sophia sat up and adjusted one of her bathing top straps, a gesture that was…suggestive, but not in an overt way. But it was more than enough for Revna to pick up what she was putting down. Entice him.”

The little Vahla gave her cousin a ‘You have no idea the things I would do’ look, before raising the glass of her drink back to her lips to drink instead of divulging all the naughty things that were currently running through her mind. She wasn’t some innocent flower in that department.

"Nobility are…Dumb. Men? Also, dumb. Add Sith into the mix, and you get a socially repressed dummy head with super powers. Dumb. Sometimes you just have to beat them over the head and drag them around by the scruff of the spooky cloak so they know what they're missing."

Revna laughed, a true and hearty, melodious laugh that echoed across the small space around them. She hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. “Ugh…isn’t that the truth.” Revna said after her laughter had died away for the moment, though her smile still lingered. The alcohol was definitely loosening her up a bit more.

Sophia ordered two more drinks from the hapless bartender when he returned with the second drink for Revna, before declaring that she had been fabulous, her haughty tone bringing another little smirk to Revna’s kohl colored lips. Oh how she had missed her dear cousin…

But something about Sophia’s expression seemed a touch…off. To everyone else who was gathered at the party, it would have been completely overlooked. But not to Revna - not to the woman who studied people and the subtlest shifting of expressions or the glint in another’s eyes for fun, and other times, for a living. Something was bothering Sophia, and Revna had a pretty strong idea on what that could be.

Revna listened with the same attention Sophia had given her when her cousin told her how Jutrand was a bore, how she was usually there when she wasn’t doing this or that for their House, since the untimely disappearance of Malum. Someone had to pick up the slack, she said. And she had taken it upon her shoulders, apparently.

The topic of Malum was…a strange one for Revna. She had been so incredibly angry at him for his part to play in what had happened with the Kaggath, with her Father’s death. She had, at the time, wanted to kill him for taking someone so precious from her. But time had helped sooth that roaring fire that burned within her soul.

Now…she just missed him. She'd give almost anything for the chance to hug him...and maybe slap him in the face a time or two.

Though she certainly didn’t miss the drama he brought with him, everywhere he went.

The topic shifted soon afterwards, however, thankfully - and to something that was much more desirable to hear and think about.

"No scandal worth reporting….But Horus did propose." Sophia said with a grin that could outshine any sun in the sky and Revna’s eyes widened as a grin split her features. "And I…Didn't say no."

WHAT?! Are you serious?!” Revna all but screamed, before releasing her sudden outburst of excitement at the news in the form of a rather girlish squeal that no doubt would draw the attention of anyone nearby. “Oh my Force, giiiirl! Congratulations! ‘Bout time something happy happened in our fething family, for Bogan’s sake.

Revna downed the rest of her drink and idly tossed the glass aside, ignoring the shattering sound it made, before she took a hearty sip of another drink that was nearby and gave Sophia her undivided attention, her fiery eyes blazing with excitement. “I wanna hear the details! How did he propose?! Tell me everything.


 


'You want more?'

She wanted everything. Her eyes said so, too. And she didn't move an inch as Quinn leaned in - their lips a shallow breath apart...

That was until the power surfaced, extending out towards the cyborg. Arris leaned a touch closer, inhaling long and slow, just in time for Quinn to snatch her shirt and pull her closer. Their lips touched, and the power - that addictive thing - filled her. The kiss itself was nicer than last time. Maybe it was just that the itch was finally getting scratched. Or was it just nicer?

Arris actually thought about it.

It was tender, and it was warm. A stark contrast from the rush she felt on Abregado-rae. The power that filled her seemed gentler, too, but no less intoxicating. Arris didn't feel the urge to grab her weapons, or start a fight, or anything else reckless. Even the impulses that filled her mind while having the Echani - her salvation from withdrawal - so close by, and wanting.

Being wanted. Arris smiled a little into their kiss. It was good to be wanted.

When they did eventually part... when Quinn's finger ran down her lower lip... Arris looked at her with eyes more fulfilled than before. Suddenly, the brooding Triumvir seemed at ease with her surroundings.

'How do you feel?'

"Great," the murmur came instantly. Before 'feel' completely left Quinn's tongue.

Her attention began to span outward. Suddenly, all her senses were sharper. She noticed little things. The way one person's thumb idly ran circles on the glass of wine in their hand. Another spiking their beverage with something; another addict. She noticed Calyx again, and his attention drawn towards them. She could almost hear unguarded thoughts, too. Feelings, really. Excitement, loneliness, jealousy, caged rage, need and gluttony.

But then she realized... That was all just herself.

"So," Arris began. "Wanna get into some trouble?"

Her first instincts at a party were always to go AWOL. Exploring the grounds beyond where guests should linger. Or eavesdropping on conversation. Or abandoning the field altogether, and making a party somewhere else. But then again, Arris wasn't Quinn, and she hadn't the first clue what Her Highness would like.

"Or... If you'd prefer... We can get to know each other. Question for a question? Answer for an answer?"

She wasn't kidding when she said she was bad at this.

 

obj1.png

WEARING: xxx | WEAPON: x | x | TAG: Efret Farr Efret Farr

The smile faded from Casimir's eyes long before it left his face. Her hand had stopped moving against his, but he didn't let go. Instead, his fingers closed gently around hers as the silence settled between them, giving her question the space it deserved.

The sounds of the resort carried on without either of them paying much attention. Laughter drifted from the infinity pool, glasses met in quiet toasts beneath the cabanas, and somewhere farther down the terrace someone celebrated a successful throw at the lawn darts. It all felt strangely distant.

Casimir turned to face her fully.

His free hand rose to her cheek, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear before resting there for a moment. His thumb traced the edge of her jaw, not as part of their language this time, but simply because he wanted to touch her. Only then did his other hand begin to move.

You asked me to lie.

His thumb paused against her palm before continuing.

I can't.

There was no apology in the admission, only honesty.

His gaze never left hers.

I've walked through too many ruins to believe that titles tell us who someone is. Jedi. Sith. King. Slave. Archaeologists find all of them buried beneath the same earth.

He allowed that thought to settle before his hand moved again, slower now.

I don't know whether the Jedi were holding you back, and I don't know whether becoming Sith was the only path you could have taken. History doesn't allow us to live the life we didn't choose so we can compare the two.

His thumb swept gently across the back of her hand.

I do know the woman standing in front of me.

There was no hesitation now.

You climbed a frozen mountain. You followed me to a nether portal because I asked you to. You walked into the Deep Well knowing neither of us might return from what needed to be done there. When I reached for you, you never let go.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers.

Those weren't the choices of a frightened woman or a selfish one. They were yours.

The corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smile.

If the Jedi made you who you were, I can respect that. If the Sith helped you become who you are, I can respect that too.

His hand came to rest against hers once more.

But don't ask me whether you chose the right Order.

He stepped a little closer until scarcely any space remained between them.

Ask me whether I would choose you again.

His thumb traced one final, familiar pattern across her palm.

I already have. More than once.

For a long moment he simply looked at her, then his eyes drifted toward the rainforest spreading beneath the cliffs before returning to hers with quiet certainty.

Come on.

A gentle tug on her hand invited her away from the crowd.

Let's go make a memory neither Order can take from us.
 


obj2.png

//: SL-0182 SL-0182 //:
//: Attire //:
//: Brosi //:
//: OBJ II - MORE FORE THE GRILL //:
AD_4nXfxRgcX_ZR8-kC0rqm7lvSG8EOJOSL940dsU7OVzeVmup3dGax4Cdo-X1Ai2HPzuUrh9Y6hDIM-xiR_v30pnSC7pOoluQWUtgV0MzONnAotvKrplxED5btOvA5RLfqXgxU4NZXdDA
A shot rang out across the grassland near CT-312’s position. The Scout halted immediately, bringing the rifle to her shoulder. BARCA isolated the sound and marked its point of origin across the HUD. Her eyes kept forward, watching a large adult Iriaz topple to the ground. Smoke curled from the charred wound through its skull. The rest of the herd erupted, stampeding toward the cover of the jungle.

The sudden panic spread to the gathered Grantaloupe around the watering hole. Their bodies made a sudden frantic rush for shelter, following towards the directions of the Iriaz. ‘Chit.’ CT-312 tracked one of the retreating Grantaloupe through the rifle's sights. BANG. The first bolt struck the creature’s body as it ran. CT-312 continued advancing toward the watering hole, keeping the rifle steady while BARCA compensated for the animal’s erratic movement. BANG. A second shot caught the Grantaloupe near the head. Its legs folded beneath, sending the creature tumbling to the ground.

CT-312 snapped her aim toward the remaining animals. BANG. The bolt struck one of the Uller rigid horned skull. It staggered beneath the impact, but remained standing. Her helmet tilted slightly at the sight as smoke rose from the fresh scorch mark. BARCA magnified the animal and where the shot had ricocheted off.

[ UNIQUE SKELETAL STRUCTURE DETECTED. ]
[ SKULL AND HORNS DISPLAY HIGH RESISTANCE TO KINETIC AND DIRECT-FIRE TRAUMA ]


The Uller lowered its thick body. A guttural grunt rolled from its throat as it shook its head violently. Its attention fixed on the Scout, panic took over as it charged. The Uller’s slow moving body moved with a momentary burst. CT-312 waited until the last possible moment before stepping sharply to the side. Its horns scraped through the grass beside her leg.

As the creature struggled to slow its momentum, CT-312’s lowered the rifle in her right hand as her left drew the net gun— raising it up and now aiming at the now turned around Uller. Before the creature charged again, an electrified wire burst from the weapon. The net spread across the Uller’s front, engulfing its heavy torso. Blue-white energy coursed through the netting, snapping loudly against the creature’s thick hide. THUD. Its body struck the ground.

CT-312 approached cautiously, holstering the net projector. The Uller remained conscious for a moment before the electrical current overwhelmed it. BARCA transmitted a retrieval request for the creature. Before the Scout could turn back toward the fallen Grantaloupe, BARCA issued a sharp warning ping. An unidentified signature was closing on her location.

Her hand returned to the Nightspore rifle, readying the weapon as she turned toward the approaching movement. A figure emerged into view wearing a dark body glove and an unusual set of goggles fitted with four separate lenses. A small droid hovered around the individual. BARCA traced the figure’s approach and compared it against the trajectory and sound of the blaster shot that was fired earlier. That explained the distant Iriaz kill.

The Scout could not fully read the stranger’s expression behind the quadocular goggles, but she did catch the slight lift at the corner of the woman’s mouth. That and the interesting cadence of her voice, did not suggest immediate hostility.

“CT-312.” Offering a small nod as she lowered her rifle. “Queen's Guard to Quinn Varanin. Your assessment is correct. I am here for the hunt.” She turned her visor toward the Iriaz lying dead nearby. BARCA chirped inside her helmet, reminding CT-312 of social norms. “Nice to meet another fellow hunter, SL-0182." This Saaraishash Slatesi Asset was more than capable with a rifle, especially at range. CT-312's helmet then turned toward the tree line, where the last of the fleeing herd had disappeared. "Several of the other parties have already formed groups. We should do the same. It would expedite the pursuit and make neutralizing larger targets more manageable.”

Another roar tore through the clearing. It wasn’t as deep or powerful as before. This one was closer. The remaining Uller stiffened as the jungle foliage exploded outward. A massive reptilian spiked horned creature rushed from beneath the canopy. The beast crashed into the side of an unsuspecting Uller. Lifting the horned animal from its feet and drove it into the ground. BARCA immediately framed the predator in red.

[ TRENTASAUR IDENTIFIED. ] Its claws sank through the Uller’s tough hide, while its spikes pressed against the struggling animal. Additional information populated at the side of CT-312’s HUD. The Trentasaur before them appeared to be a young adult. Its immense frame measures roughly three-quarters the size of an average fully grown adult which was around twelve meters in height and thirty-six in length.

CT-312 dropped into a crouch and angled the Nightspore rifle toward the creature. Without looking away from Trentasaur, she raised her support hand into a fist beside her helmet. A silent signal to Hold. The predator had not fully noticed either Hunters. Its attention remained fixed on the wounded Uller trapped beneath its claws. Thrashing around violently, it managed to twist free when the Trentasaur’s grip adjusted, being able to stagger away.

Instead of pursuing, the Spiked creature’s entire body suddenly went still. CT-312 observed its nostril flare. The beast drew in long breaths, testing the air. Its head slowly lifted from the escaping Uller and turned toward SL-0182 and the Scout. Its dark eyes blinked several times as it focus now settled on them. CT-312’s gloved hand that was signaling went back to the rifle. Her tone came out calmly through the helmet’s voice modulator. “How are you in close quarters?”

BARCA’s targeting brackets tighten around the creature. The Trentasaur opened its jaws and released another deafening roar, the spikes on its body shook violently before surging forward directly toward CT-312 and SL-0182.

 
Last edited:

That wasn't the answer she had asked for, but it was the one she had desperately needed.

She let out a large but quiet sigh, exhaling emotions she had buried for years on the expelled air. Most of them had been floating in her body from even before the Netherworld had swallowed Elias, compacted in the deep tissue. No wonder the Light had left her. It had no path there, no way to illuminate the parts of her in need of it the most—and thus no way to stem the rot.

Or maybe it had; tried, that was. Maybe in so doing it had clotted in an ethereal vein, cut off the flow of Light side energy to most of her being, and had slowly killed the connection to the Force she had once known.

Yes, yes—it was easier the believe that she was a victim of circumstance, even destiny. If either were irreversible, it didn't matter if her decisions had been right or wrong. They simply were as they had to be.

That still wasn't enough to quell her anxieties though. If she was able to truly let go her past choices to focus on present ones, she would be able to forgive herself for fumbling her feelings for Elias shortly after they met. Instead, her self-blame would know no end, nor her sense that Cosmic Force itself had somehow wronged her as well.

But Casimir's response to her desperation reframed that just so: it didn't matter period. The time she had served the Jedi had molded her into who she was. She still was that woman for the most part too, though the time she associated with Sith was reshaping and refining what the Jedi had crafted. Both paths had been necessary to her journey. She likely would never had met Casimir without the latter.

And she couldn't imagine life without him now.

It was more than enough for her that she was a woman who he would choose. Who, as he said, he had chosen.

Her internal question—Have I become better or worse for the galaxy?—shifted from concern for the greater good to the lesser. To considering what was best, most natural for her. The Jedi concepts of good and evil began to trade shape; that is, evil lost its sharp, dangerous points as good grew more jagged. What she would come to view as better she had once seen as worse, and vice versa.

Efret followed him through the crowd at first, then overtook him, leading him towards two empty lounge chairs under a cantilever umbrella. She sat down first, facing him and extending her other arm to beckon him to join her.

Casimir Thorne Casimir Thorne + OPEN
 
Last edited:
Lord Seer of Korriban, Professor & Governor





Though her gaze remained locked somewhere into the middle distance, A'Mia listened keenly to what her former students shared. Kivah's musings were predictably guarded, however the neti wasn't sure she could fully parse even the clearest bits of her answer.

The cathar had always been fiercely independent and, as best A'Mia could tell, did have an inherent understanding of the "laws of the jungle" as the saying went. It did of course take all types to see a major war effort through, and someone with Kivah's skills would be useful indeed. Still, the neti would need to keep an eye on her should she take more work with the Order in earnest.

Varin's response was more in line with what A'Mia anticipated though she was impressed with the boy's philosophical growth. He'd always been a thoughtful student, even if his bulk made people assume he was more muscle than mind. The neti did not however agree with his conclusion and felt it her duty to correct a few assumptions.

"You mention the unfortunate trend of in-fighting and backbiting. It was worse before your time, if you can believe it. Great strides have been made toward a more unified Sith presence in the galaxy. Still, those concerns remain."

She turned toward them finally, eyeing Kivah sidelong before addressing Varin.

"Your concerns about espionage are understandable, no one is immune to such things. I have however taken significant pains to keep this gathering very strictly amongst truly interested parties. Which brings me to my personal solution for infighting: outward ambition."

Sweeping her hand in a wide gesture to encompass those gathered and out beyond as if to the wider galaxy.

"Rather than allowing our colleagues to remain too focused upon what their neighbor has or what they might gain from squabbles with fellow Lords, directing the focus to outward expansion and goods to be gotten through conquest beyond the Blackwall, beyond rapidly expanding Covenant territory. Not only are there forces beyond our influence who will certainly strike at us if we in-fight, but there are so many untamed or even uninhabited worlds just waiting to be shepherded by a firm hand."

A'Mia was no fool, she knew opposition would always exist — felt resolute in the fact that shadows cannot exist without light. Though she spoke in terms of extremes while mingling with most Sith, the arboreal woman's stance was far more nuanced than she typically let on. Her truest ambition was to see Sith control become so far spread and reaching, that even when the tide eventually and inevitably turned against them there would be roots of darkness dug in so deep that they could lay in wait.

A'Mia's ultimate goal regarding the Sith was to seed the galaxy so that there would always be a pull toward the darker arts. Her own personal dream was more esoteric even than that. The neti wished to reach for the very reigns of reality, to peer into the fabric of the Weave with such keen vision so as to know all there was to know. She had designs on being the most formidable Architect of space-time that had ever existed so she could wield deific power and create on a level unmatched by any other sentient being.

Such grand visions took time though, and A'Mia was nothing if not patient.

"In short, unification and further incentives for outward growth will be my focus for quite some time."

 

obj1.png

76SwO4H.png
Kivah listened with interest as the others shared their visions, her plate held by her side, uneaten. Their concerns over internal espionage were interesting, and she filed them away for later, but smiled. "Come now, Teacher. We both took your botany class, and neither of us are wearing your flowery gift." Her ear flicked and she waited a beat. "Still, it sounds like you both desire similar things, but by different means. But so far we offer no incentive to be good little Sithlings working together, or for conquered people to accept us. Unconquered peoples either. Not once planets have been virus bombed, undead running amok, and most cities are bombed-out ruins." She could continue, Sith policy was designed to encourage the strong and left the weak to die as victims or suborn themselves to others for protection, but Kivah left it there for the others to consider in their own ways.

Her eyes flick to Varin, "You say you want to unify us, but how? What do you offer that our current kings and rulers don't? You have little of the power, prestige, and following that they have. I'm not trying to cut you down, heck, I think you're right. We're both looking for a different outcome than simply continuing on. And you," She turned towards A'Mia, her voice thoughtful. "Want to unify us by presenting exterior conquests. Similar to the one we're currently facing with the High Republic? But it doesn't sound like you agree with the current leadership either..." A slight frown tugged at Kivah's mouth as she tried to puzzle out why their former teacher might be dissatisfied with the current conquest plans.

 

obj2.png

Equipment: Nightspore M2 Blaster Rifle, Dathomir Energy Bow
Attire: Dathomir Wanderer
Tag: OPEN

Aileni continued to follow the tracks, pausing every now and then, taking the time to pause over them. His fingers gently caressed the different prints as he attempted to see if he could use the Force to pull some memory or echo on what the creature might be or what he was going to be dealing with while doing this hunt. Aileni couldn't get any Force Echo but the ground was damp and the prints still very fresh. He was still on the hunt and he believed that he was close to getting something. The Shadow breathed in deeply, letting out a slow sigh. Grabbing the rifle, he knew that this was the weapon that the Sith were wanting them to use when hunting so it was the one that he would stick with.

"What am I doing here...?" Aileni sighed to himself, he was trying to demonstrate his skills as a Shadow, the young man had never gotten a Master so he was constantly fearing that he would not be able to demonstrate his worth for achieving Knighthood. So, being bold and doing this, Aileni was hoping that he could prove through other ways that he was ready. That he deserved to be recognised. "This was crazy, not even sure anyone in the Sith has even noted me for better or for worse..." Aileni shook his head.

No. No. He couldn't dwell on the negativity in his mind. This was something that was not going to succeed overnight. It would be a longer mission and far more dangerous than the minor cults that Aileni interacted with before. Feeling the resolve return to him, Aileni continued to shift forward. The rifle in his hands as he wandered forward. Eyes sharp.
 



VARIN MORTIFER



Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber | Wyrmfang​

“Your doubt is understandable.”

Varin spoke quietly as he plucked a piece of meat from his plate.

“But if I were to give you all of the details, who's to say what you would do with it.”

He took a quick bite, enjoying the flavor of the cooked meat before he sat the plate down. The drink in his other hand then came up to his lips as he took a slow sip.

“Power, prestige and following come over time. Simply because I have stated the goal does not mean I have all of the pieces.”

He paused as he looked at both Kivah and A’Mia, letting his words hang in the air and sink into their minds.

“One thing is always inescapable no matter who you are, no matter the power or influence you wield. Change always comes. A new blade is always raised from a new leader, and the one who has captivated and captured the masses will always rise.”

He gently set his drink down.

“I’m sure even Lady A’Mia can agree change always lurks its head.”


 
obj2.png
Location: Jungle Hunting Grounds - Brosi
Thread Objective: More for the Grill
Mission Objective:

  • Collect tissue samples from an iriaz.
  • Collect tissue samples from an uller.
  • Investigate the apex predator.
    • Collect a tissue sample, if possible.
Tag: CT-312 CT-312

SL-0182 raised her rifle as the camouflage-clad figure fired on the fleeing grantaloupe, cutting down one with a pair of precise shots delivered to its body and head. The creature stumbled and fell, legs twitching as life fled from its form in a final shuddering breath. From there, the camouflaged huntress advanced on the remaining animals, a shot striking an uller square in its ridged skull. The beast wheeled around and lowered its body before rushing her. The Asset watched as the huntress sidestepped out of the path of its charge, before raising her energy net projector and discharging an electrified energy net that swiftly engulfed the creature.

Her nose twitched as the acrid scent of ozone and burning flesh pricked at her nostrils, the energy coursing through the uller’s body before rendering it unconscious in a twitching heap.

Moments later, the huntress introduced herself and offered a pleasantry. SL-0182’s lips curled in the same eerie, uncanny smile that she always wore. The Asset immediately noted her name, filing it away in her memory: CT-312. A personal guard of Quinn Varanin.


"Several of the other parties have already formed groups. We should do the same. It would expedite the pursuit and make neutralizing larger targets more manageable.”

“I agree, C-T-three-one-two,” SL-0182 replied. “There are dangerous apex predators in this forest that I am planning to investigate,” she continued. “Your assistance would be appreciated, to which I will offer the same to you as well.”

It was then that a thunderous roar tore through the clearing, at which point SL-0182’s eyes lit up as large life-form contact blossomed in her awareness. Her sensors immediately triangulated it: twenty-five meters away and closing fast.

SL-0182 had her rifle up and ready moments before a massive horned reptilian monster burst out from the jungle and crashed into an unsuspecting uller, lifting the creature from its feet before driving it into the ground with bone-shattering force. The monster’s claws tore into the uller’s tough hide. All the while, SL-0182’s Ghost Link fed details of the monster’s species and physiology into her awareness.

The monster was a terentasaur. This particular one was a young adult specimen that was not yet fully grown, but was powerful enough to crush bones and shatter armor with contemptuous ease.

It was one of the apex predators that she had been looking for.

Noting CT-312’s hand signal, SL-0182 watched the terentasaur with a focused, half-lidded gaze as the uller escaped, grievously wounded but alive. The monster did not pursue. Instead, its nostrils flared, dark eyes narrowing like twin embers as its focus settled onto the two huntresses.

SL-0182 immediately realized that the terentasaur regarded them as rivals, rather than prey. Rivals that had been hunting within its established territory.


“How are you in close quarters?”

“I do not advise engaging in—”

Too late. The terentasaur unleashed a loud, earsplitting roar, the spikes on its body violently quivering as it rushed towards the two huntresses in a violent, ground-shaking charge. SL-0182 reacted instantly, the bounding systems in her boots launching her several meters laterally as she cartwheeled through the air with preternatural grace.

The Ghost Link supercharged her awareness as she ascended, the blur of motion resolving into slow-motion clarity within her perception. Intuitively aware of the fact that any shots she fired at the terentasaur's armored scales would likely deflect or deal only superficial damage, SL-0182 snapped her rifle’s sights towards one the beast’s beady, orange-hued eyes and pulled the trigger. A blue-hued bolt lanced forth, aimed with surgical precision to strike the charging terentasaur in its left eye!


 
cc5373d7eb95e7f47abdfefc9d37491ae5472274.pnj


Arris's answer made her smile. It was the only thing she focused on. That need, that feeling she was able to give to the cyborg at a moment's notice. It helped that Arris gave her what she wanted in return. The closeness of sharing her gift, and the feeling of being wanted back. It was everything Quinn wanted; she found herself leaning close, remaining beside her pretend girlfriend for the day.

Her head tilted gently, pondering the question posed to her by the Triumvir. It wasn't something out of the ordinary; there was a reason Arris and Mercy often got along. Even to the point that she remembered Arris arriving towards the tail end of her evening at the club on Coruscant. Her nose wrinkled as she remembered that evening; it had eventually soured, but she had made the most of it.

Quinn watched Arris, her eyes scanning the face, trying to pick up anything out of the ordinary. Though she figured with how much of Windrun was more cyborg than human, her Echani talents wouldn't be as valuable. A pity, she had wondered what it would be like to have that intimate of a conversation with the renowned Dark Horse.

"Trouble?" Quinn grinned.

She knew she should stay at the party; she was a princess of the Sith and one of the Order's Dark Councilors. But something dangerous was in the way Arris asked her questions. Getting to know each other? Trouble? All of it sparked her interest.

She bit her lower lip slightly, eyes never leaving the dark grey that belonged to the Trimvir. Quinn wondered if this was what Arris's eyes had always looked like or if this was yet another implant. There was so much to unpack when it came to the woman she still held on to.

"I like trouble," she smirked, pulling Arris even closer as she just wanted the woman closer.

"I'd also like to get to know you better, question for question," her lips brushed lightly against the cyborgs to tease and tempt.

"Answer for an answer."

Quinn whispered as she pulled away.

"But I'd like for it to be a bit secluded, just me and you. Can you make that happen?"
 

Arris returned a grin of her own, moments after their lips brushed for only a moment.

"Oh - transactional? Her Highness is finally speaking my language." She teased dryly. "Question for question, answer for answer. It's a deal."

She hooked her arm under Quinn's and led the Echani along. Secluded was exactly what Arris had in mind, too. Maybe for different reasons. Arris just didn't like these sorts of crowds. Too many people wanted to know you. She preferred clubs and fight rings, the places where your reputation lived and died within the confines of those walls. Where you could make as many drunken or high (likely both, in Windrun's case) mistakes as you'd like.

They broke free from the party, arriving where several speeders were parked.

The cyborg's eyes flicked across the offerings. None of them were hers, but that didn't matter.

She allowed them to speak to her.

It had always been that way, though back then, she had no idea it was the Force's calling. She had always chalked it up to intuition.

But it was one vehicle that ultimately caught her eye. "Are... Are those wheels?" She cocked her head.

Arris let out a bemused, involuntary snicker.

Her hand ran along the vehicle's form. "A wheeled bike?" She looked around to make sure they were alone. "You think anyone will mind if I boost this?"

She was a technopath. It would be too damn easy, but that wasn't how Arris wanted to steal the bike. She leaned over the vehicle and carefully removed the panel that housed the ignition system. No, she'd do this the fun way.
 
cc5373d7eb95e7f47abdfefc9d37491ae5472274.pnj


That word lingered in her mind. Transactional.

It sat oddly in her stomach as she thought about it, letting Arris hook her arm under hers. She wondered what it meant, if that's all this was to the cyborg. Quinn figured that's how all relationships were, though, when stripped away of emotion and desires. There was an even exchange.

Arris gained power.

Quinn felt wanted.

She wrinkled her nose slightly, trying to push away the thoughts. It made her feel horrible, pulling Arris into this twisted world of hers. Though Quinn often gave her a choice, each and every time Arris chose her.

A warmth swelled in her chest as she felt the inklings of a blush brush against her cheeks and the shell of her ears. To be wanted, chosen, all of it made Quinn want more. The transaction today was time, and she would get to know Arris a bit more. Quinn mused quietly, feeling the excitement of just being alone with Arris.

An eyebrow raised slightly as they arrived out by the speeders. She watched as Arris shopped around, looking for something to call out to her. Then Quinn heard the cyborg gleefully ask her a question. Quinn looked over, seeing the bike that her hands were caressing.

For a moment, the Echani felt a bit jealous of the machine.

The last question made Quinn raise an eyebrow. "Boost it?" Her eyes then looked again at the bike; it was in fact her bike. Arris, of course, wouldn't have known; most people didn't know the Echani's love for machines, engines, and adrenaline. She often hid that part of her from others; it wasn't a lifestyle or something meant for a girl like her.

"Probably not; let's do it." She grinned.

Almost instantly, Arris leaned over the bike. Quinn took the opportunity to watch.

Her eyes followed the curve of Arris' back, lingering somewhere they probably shouldn't. She had touched her there before, knew the shape beneath the synthskin, but right now she found herself wanting to drag the tip of a finger slowly down the cyborg's spine, feeling the subtle stretch of artificial flesh beneath her touch.

Furthermore, her gaze wandered, nearly drinking in the rest of what made up Arris Windrun.

Quinn caught her lower lip between her teeth.

Her mind wandered somewhere entirely inappropriate, considering her bike was, quite literally, being hotwired in front of her.

She tilted her head slightly, watching Arris; another thought slipped loose. What would it feel like to drag the tips of her nails down that same spine? Slowly enough to feel every little shift, every tantalizing inch, keeping her close while Arris hovered above her, braced against her body, all heat and —

Quinn cleared her throat.

"Is it going to take long? I'd hate for us to get caught."
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom