Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction The Return | Sith Order


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Tags: Vivi Irius Vivi Irius Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Darth Tormenta Darth Tormenta Zorath Zorath Darth Callidus Darth Callidus Kom Ceaasan Kom Ceaasan Srina Talon Srina Talon Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr Leliana Leliana Seren Gwyn Seren Gwyn Firrerreo Firrerreo Avarice Avarice
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Malum had always had a way of drawing people to him, though she suspected most of those gathered were only here because they wanted to see what had become of him, not because they believed in him. A faint smile pulled at her lips as Alisteri whispered his concerns about her exhaustion, covering the fussing with the notion that she was here to keep him in check.

Lina let out a low hum of amusement. “I wouldn’t call a man’s return from the proverbial dead a little affair, ki sosûtudas.” her gaze slid to him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “You never know what sordid types might come to such a gathering, better for me to come along just in case, no?”

They settled at the back of those gathered, and Lina’s emerald gaze passed over each of them in turn, coming face and name that came with the to memory, only shifting back to Malum when he removed his mask. The aging was not a surprise in itself, but what was, was just how much. It wasn’t in the beard, or the gentle weathering that had begun to take place, but it was in his eyes, they were heavier, carrying the weight of something greater than a man of his years should have.

The talk of unity was not new, Malum had always been for a united front on the face of things, that was the game of a serpent, to utter sweet words in an ear while simultaneously drawing a blade to drive into the same back. Lina knew the game, because she played it herself, when it suited her, when her time was not occupied with greater things.

Alisteri’s scoff tugged her gaze away from Malum, settling on the woman carved from marble. “So it would seem…” she murmured in reply, though she did not share her love's sentiment where the Empress was concerned she did find it illuminating that she chose to be here. Was she showing support for Malum? Or that he had bent his knee and she now held the reins of the Tsis’Kaar?

She watched the quiet show with fascination, as Malum spoke, the dark crystal spires of the palace that served as his back drop receded, drawing into the walls and filling cracks crevices, bringing something that had been a monument of ruin, now stood as a symbol of rebirth, and new possibilities.

Her emerald gaze shifted to the Empress, her head tilting. Was this a simple case of theatrics? She did not think so. It was not, as far as she was aware, in Srina's nature. It was, however, in Malum’s. The lines were too blurred to be able to make any real sense of things.

“You and I both know that the Empress does not deal in lies and manipulation.” she said in a low voice, an amused gaze shifting . “No matter how much you want it to be true.”

She shook her head, letting her eyes fall back towards Malum as people began to offer their pledge of allegiance to him.

“Whatever words have been exchanged, whatever tale he believes matters not. He has nothing but remnants, like you he must rebuild and a wise person does not bite the hand that feeds them.”

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Seren remained where she had settled near the edge of the gathering, content to let the multitude of voices and personalities reveal themselves without adding hers merely for the sake of being heard. The number of arrivals had grown far beyond what she had expected when answering the summons, and with each new presence the atmosphere became heavier, layered with histories she did not know and loyalties she had no intention of pretending to understand. Some came with fleets, others through shadows or portals, while still others simply appeared among the crowd and watched. Seren found herself increasingly grateful that she had chosen the latter approach. There was far more to learn from listening than from competing for attention.

Malum's acknowledgment of her earlier introduction drew the smallest shift in her expression. Darth Eryndis, or Lady Gwyn, should you so prefer. The distinction mattered more than he could have known, and the fact that he had offered it rather than simply imposing the old title earned him a quiet measure of appreciation. She did not interrupt his attention as it moved toward the other arrivals, but when his gaze passed near her again, Seren answered with a slight inclination of her head. Lady Gwyn would do. Seren would do better. Darth Eryndis belonged to a chapter she did not deny, but neither did she intend to resume living inside it merely because she stood among Sith again.

The arrival of Darth Strosius had provided one familiar point within the growing sea of strangers, and Seren had returned his greeting without attempting to draw him away from the woman accompanying him. Whatever relationship existed between them was none of her concern, though the familiarity between them was obvious enough. More interesting was the tension that seemed to ripple through Strosius when the pale Echani woman arrived. Seren knew neither the history nor the reason behind it, so she resisted the temptation to construct explanations from fragments and simply watched.

Then the palace changed.

Seren's attention snapped toward the crystalline spires as they began to withdraw, not shattering but sinking back into the wounds they had created. Crimson and black filled fractured stone, transforming devastation into something different rather than pretending it had never occurred. The scars remained visible, yet the structure stood whole again because of them. For a woman who practiced sorcery and had spent years studying the many ways the Force could alter matter, spirit, and memory, it was difficult not to appreciate the precision involved. She had sensed something alive within those crystals when she first arrived. Now she understood at least who they answered to. "Beautiful," she murmured beneath her breath, though whether she meant the restoration or the philosophy embodied within it was difficult even for her to say.

Malum's speech drew her attention back before curiosity could pull her any farther toward the palace. Seren listened closely, especially when the rhetoric began to change. There had been a time when words about Sith destiny, inheritance, and galactic dominion might have stirred something very different within her. Now she heard them through the perspective of someone who had lived beneath more than one doctrine and eventually chosen to belong completely to none. Yet she could not dismiss everything he said simply because the language came wrapped in Sith ambition. His admission of failure interested her far more than the promises of conquest. It was easy to promise an empire when one had never lost anything. It was considerably harder to stand before the remnants of what you once commanded and acknowledge that your promises had failed.

Through iron and blood.

Seren's expression remained contemplative rather than inspired. Around her, others began offering their answers. Callidus pledged herself with an enthusiasm that bordered upon hunger. Tormenta challenged the concepts of justice, freedom, and security even while agreeing to fight. The great metallic being who had descended from the heavens answered in language of fire and purification that left Seren studying him with renewed curiosity. Their interpretations differed wildly, yet all had found something within Malum's call worth answering. That alone told her more about the gathering than any single speech could have.

She did not step forward, and there was no oath waiting on her tongue. Seren had walked away from Sith hierarchy once already, and she had no intention of replacing one set of chains with another simply because the person holding them spoke eloquently about freedom. Yet she also had not come here expecting to reject everything before it was offered. Malum had called to something beyond institutional loyalty, and she had answered out of curiosity. Curiosity remained.

When the immediate declarations around her began to settle, Seren finally spoke from where she stood rather than claiming the center. "You asked whether we feel the change. I do." She allowed the admission to rest for a moment before continuing, amber eyes fixed on Malum. "But I will not promise you an empire tonight, nor swear myself to a cause I have only just heard described. I have made that mistake before."

There was no accusation in the words. If anything, they carried a quiet honesty directed as much toward herself as toward him. "What I can promise is that I will listen. I will judge what you build by what it becomes rather than what you call it, and where our purposes align, you may find me willing to help." Her gaze moved briefly across the gathered Sith, the restored palace, and the many competing ambitions assembled beneath the same sky. "If you truly intend to build something stronger than what was lost, then perhaps skepticism is not the worst thing to keep nearby. Someone should occasionally ask whether the iron is being forged into a foundation... or another set of chains."

With that, Seren fell silent again and returned comfortably to the shadows of the gathering. She had not answered Malum's call with fealty, conquest, or promises of blood. Instead, she had offered something considerably more difficult for her to give.

A chance.
 
Mʏ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀ Bᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ME

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A few voices in the crowd expressed their immediate approval, while others remained silent and distrustful. But Kom remained indifferent as she continued to observe the posturing until the atmosphere itself seemed to shift. Suddenly, a surge of dark-side energy swept across the grounds.

The damaged, crystal-shattered palace began to reassemble, stones and spires moving under the sudden mystical force from the pale Empress Srina Talon Srina Talon . The intense pressure of the Force made Kom's boots slide on the loose gravel. She stumbled slightly, regaining her balance with a quiet curse.

A grimace appeared on her face as she straightened up. She despised that feeling. After years of honing her skills and pushing through her training, being in the presence of such power made her feel woefully inadequate. It was a hard truth to accept, knowing that there were beings in this galaxy capable of reshaping a fortress with a mere thought, while she had to struggle for every small gain.

Once the dust settled and the gathering finished expressing their ambitions, silence returned to the clearing. Kom took a deep breath, tightening her grip on her lightsaber hilt. She focused on the unmasked man Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr at the center of the ring.

It puzzled her that, with all the military leaders and Sith Lords present, no one had mentioned the most obvious issue in the room. Using the Force, she projected her voice slightly across the stone walls. Echoing from an indeterminate location so it was impossible for anyone in the crowd to identify her position.

"Nice speech," the voice said. "But how can anyone here be sure they're looking at the real Darth Malum, and not some Kainate strand-cast created in a tube to extend their influence?" it was a controversial statement to be making but one had to be sure given the fact she had read that the organization had been destroyed by Darth Carnifex, a man who had the technology to create a replica. ​

Lina Ovmar Lina Ovmar Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Vivi Irius Vivi Irius Darth Tormenta Darth Tormenta Zorath Zorath Darth Callidus Darth Callidus Leliana Leliana Seren Gwyn Seren Gwyn Firrerreo Firrerreo Avarice Avarice
 
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