Faction The Soil Endures: From Scars to Song || Sith Order

[Mercy]

Srina Talon

One Empress lay on the grass next to the other Empress.

"Should I..." Mercy murmured with her eyes closed, but the hunger was never far away. Her teeth had still been stained from tearing an Imperial throat out, it had sated her for a brief while, but the mention of food also came with the reminder of the scent in the air. The fried nuna smelled heavenly and it was already making her stomach rumble.

"I guess I should."

Opening her eyes Mercy watched curiously as the two drakes flew in the air. Playful, fighting, dancing in the air together. She glanced to the side to Srina at that.

"Remind you of anyone you know?" A bit dryly there before pushing herself up, leaning into the tree instead so she could grab one of the nuna wings without it causing her to choke. They had also began this strange friendship of theirs with a fight. Multiple ones, even. The dance at the Sith Court, then the conflict in Firestorm.

She tore into the wing as if her life depended on it.

Meatmeatmeatmeat. Whispered in her mind and the gaping ache at the center of her being would never truly be filled. But it could be sated by devouring whatever was on hand.

The drum of the party sounded in the distance. It had been nice, she had met up with a few people, while Srina did her rounds. An Empress' work never ended, as they said. Something that Mercy never quite believed before but now that the title was hanging over her neck like an executioner's blade, she was starting to see it differently.

"…I think…You will miss this when you return to the Core."

Her nostrils flared, at the idea of going back there.

"I haven't had this much fun... since the Tapani campaign, I believe." She reached out (with her clean golden hand rather than the oily nuna hand) and squeezed the other Empress' hand. "It's a shame you weren't there for it. You would have enjoyed putting those ancient houses to the sword."

"But we aren't done yet. I feel it in you, darling, the hunger. You want to strike back, don't you?"

 

[Lirka Ka]

TAGS: Neryn Ka

There was a certain quaint humor that came with the freshness of a creature that still almost glistened with the slime of its tube. Some of her prior spawn had been allowed to share of Lirka’s fractured and flashed memories of hyper violence - he was not given such a chance. A variable allowed to mutate and grow of his own accord, a chance to study just how well those Ka-genetics took hold and where deviations began. When one got old enough, they did need projects to observe after all.

“In time, you will. A scar itself has little worth, but it is the weight of purpose behind those wounds that shows true tenacity and triumph.”

The Empire had no shortages of mighty parental figures, indeed some would posit that their empress could’ve been considered a mother to all Sith. And ever the mimic Lirka followed in the footsteps of mighty Dark Lords to stake her claim. Yet while ever willing to guide, it was a cold and loveless thing. Lirka did not feel love in the conventional sense, such emotion had been scourged away as her body was altered and her mind shaved down to allow easier…replications. It was a simple and formulaic love now, entirely determined by how much value a variable had to appeasing Lirka’s unending lust for power and prestige.

As of yet, Neryn Ka was still too much a fledgling to have proven much of either way. Unpredictability usually had the Once-Sephi’s paranoia spread like wildfire - but for once, she allowed herself to enjoy the chaos of it and await the success of the next Ka.

She thought to the battlefield of Brosi, and her clawed hand rammed deep into the intestines of the Blood-Craver she brawled with. And in that single exposed eye showed a glimmer of nostalgia (for what amounted to less than a cycle ago, really) and humor (at the gory absurdity of it)

“Yes, from a certain point of view I did.”

She cocked her head at the boldness of her spawn. There was a certain part of her that knew quite well the grandiose claiming of a lickspittle, and she’d almost shudder at the thought of forcing herself to do just the same time and time again to appease those who might’ve gifted her a piece of their power. That was the most wondrous part of her prestige now - she may have been far from a beloved Councillor, indeed in the grand scheme of it all she was one looked at cock-eyed. But Councillor nonetheless, she did not need to prostrate.

“The bugs will wait. Focus your hunger and the killer’s spirit shared from mine soul. You are to be Ka, after all.”

She crossed her arms over her chest now, eyes now turning to the gathered assembly all around them. One was never too young for a lesson.

“If you are to be Ka, fledgling, awareness shall be a mighty weapon within your arsenal. Therefore -“

She nodded her head some, gesturing out to their supposed-allies.

“Threat assessment.”

​

​

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Brosi
Objective: 3
Armour Mode: WAR
Equipment: Marwolaeth Ddu, Lethal Pursuers, Vibrosword, Blaster Pistol
Tag: OPEN

Exhaustion hit Eira like a tsunami. The young Sith had done everything she could to highlight the power that had been forged and invested into the armour that she had built. That there was no need to hold a Lightsaber when the Force could wipe the Imperials away. However, that meant when the adrenaline ended, her energy was mostly depleted. It was fine but the armour felt heavier, the mask suffocating, her senses dulled. There was an attempt to reassure herself that this was all normal and she was probably suffering because Eira had been pushing her limits. Seeing where she could take her powers and what a mere acolyte could do wrapped in armour that gave her the presence of a Knight. Maybe even a Sith Lord if someone was dumb enough to think she came across that strong with the boosts to her abilities.

The consequences were just severe exhaustion now. Something that Eira believed would fade in time.

Removing the mask, Eira wandered into the gathering of people. Dancing, playing music and eating. It felt far too joyous for Eira. While the young Sith knew they had succeeded in pushing back the Imperial Confederation. This was the second time they selected Brosi for invasion. It was clear that these imperials were intent on attacking Brosi, getting a foothold here to take the holy worlds. Eira wanted to make demands of her own. They came, they attempted to claim what was never going to be theirs. Eira wanted them to regret it all. Suffering till death was something they begged for. A lesson in what happens when the weak dare to think they match the power of the Sith.

This could not just continue to happen. Acceptance of this could not be allowed. Demonstrations were needed and people needed to see that actions held the most severe consequences.

However, Eira was very, very aware that she was small in the current Sith hierarchy. There was her Master but Quinn's achievements were not Eira's and Eira would never claim them as her own. Eira needed to stand and make a show of the fact that she was ready to fight. Ready to kill. Ready to make those who think they were capable of fighting Sith understand they had no clue what power a real Sith had.

That would be in the future, for now, Eira needed to remove the ultrachrome plating she had on her body. Drink and ensure that the bruises and minor injuries were nothing to be concerned about. The armour did it's job far beyond what Eira thought it would be able to do. There was also a thought about how her Master was doing. Eira had not fought beside Quinn, so there was some concern that Quinn might have gotten into trouble but for now, Eira could not see her Master around and did not wish to be calling out to Quinn and have those around her think that an acolyte was overly concerned about Quinn. The Sith Lord was far beyond capable and from what Eira could tell, nothing the Imperial Confederation brought could overpower her.

 

[Neryn Ka]

Already, the creature's mind was filled with glorious, idealized visions of violence and conquest. He could see himself casting down civilizations, duelling impossibly mighty enemies, setting entire worlds aflame... of course, being a relatively newborn horror, such ideas had yet to be tempered in the ice-cold bath of reality.

His form thrummed with barely-contained, utterly-directionless power and aggression. The patch of grass he stood upon visibly withered as the heat of his body intensified a thousandfold.

Neryn was quite enjoying having Lirka Ka 's undivided attention, and was doing his best to appear powerful and useful. Of course, he'd never killed anything larger than the aforementioned bugs, but that didn't stop the unyielding advance of his youthful foolhardiness. If Neryn was convinced of anything, it was his own invulnerability, despite the lack of any evidence whatsoever to support this belief.

He was dragged from his childish fantasies of violence by the sudden drill-instructor sharpness in the Creator's tone. He scuttled atop a nearby rock with a sort of reptilian crawling motion disturbingly at odds with his elegant humanoid frame, peering around the area as ordered. Hunched up there with wings folded, false-eyes blazing through the eyeholes of his Sephi theater mask, he looked like nothing so much as an enormous, demonic bat or hawk.

Neryn didn't possess traditional sight, at least as such. His eyeballs hadn't survived the ravages of his early transformations, boiling away painfully under the seething heat of his warped physiology as his body broke and remade, broke and remade, broke and remade. He still remembered the intensity of that pain, (easily enough, as it was only days ago). It had been his first lesson: to live was to suffer. Even now, the fire within his bones and blood licked hungrily at his neurons, sharpening his focus. That had been his second lesson, reinforced regularly by the Creator: suffering built character. To suffer was to be forced into the here and now, to be on-task.

To his otherworldly senses, the universe was a place of hazy, translucent, indistinct terrain features, punctuated here and there by the telltale flickerings that spoke of living things. In a way, he could see them deeper than they saw themselves.

So many little life-candles were gathered out there today, burning with varying levels of intensity. Some were almost painful to look upon, but also aroused the greatest hunger within him. How he longed to extinguish those fires, and draw them into himself.

Interestingly, the Creator didn't possess a candle herself. Nonetheless, her proximity was omnipresent in his senses, always clear like the beacon of a lighthouse. No doubt, she'd designed it that way, in her all-encompassing wisdom.

At first glance, they were all alike. Craven little souls afire with ambition and cruelty, all broken, some broken in ways that made even Neryn seem whole. As he focused, however, distinctions became clear.

Small wonder that the Creator had wanted a threat assessment, he thought to himself with something slightly akin to concern. Typically, it had not occurred to Neryn that the order was a teaching moment, not because Lirka was incapable of reading her surroundings herself.

He scurried back down from the rock, standing pensively beside the Creator again.

"Overwhelming." Came the assessment, surprisingly curt and professional.

"Were they to decide they wished us dead, we might be hard-pressed for a time to destroy them." This was the closest Neryn's pride would let him get to 'We'd be more frakked than a Gorg at a Hutt family reunion'.

"Nonetheless, Creator-Mother, I would be pleased to hold them back while you relocated to a better position, or carry you there myself." He pointed one finger upwards to the top of the great tree. "Surely pickup could be arranged from there? You're certainly stronger, swifter, and wiser than they. They would struggle to keep up."

Pure tactical naïveté, a boy's understanding of combat derived from too much unsupervised viewing of holodramas. Such a movement would only be to corner oneself, but Neryn could imagine nothing finer than staining the tree's leaves in blood to prove his might, while the Creator got away scot-free. It was precisely the sort of idea one might expect from a creature still in his infancy, concerned more with spectacle than anything else. Still, Neryn's senses rankled at the possibility of the Creator-Mother coming to harm. Such a thing was unthinkable, untenable in his pinprick-thin worldview. Like many fledglings, he took his parent's omniscience and omnipotence as facts of the universe, not to be unseated or challenged. At least, he did so in the moments where enthusiasm and a degree of ingrained loyalty overrode classical Ka-branded scheming.

Worse yet, it would make him look bad, possibly jeopardizing his inevitable ascent as the greatest of the Creator's children. That, of course, just would not do.

 

[Skadi Lightbane]

Direct Tag: Irina Jesart
Others: Aerik Lechner // Torvald ​

At first, Irina said that she and Aerik were okay - and then she admitted that she hadn’t told him what had happened. Skadi knew immediately what the other young woman was referring to, and she held her silence for a moment, sensing that Irina had more to say.

“When he attacked I realised that that was why he’d been keeping me at arms length…why he’s been keeping both of us at arms length. If he knew he’d not only lost control, but hurt one of us…”

Skadi watched Irina for a moment, before glancing back over her shoulder briefly, as if to ensure that no one was listening in on their conversation, still listening as the other girl continued to speak, opening up a little more to the Valkyri.

“I didn’t lie, at least, I just told him he didn’t want the answer. It’ll come around again, I’ve no doubt. But I’m not ready to see him break under that knowledge. It’s taken me a long time to get him back, I don’t want to lose him again.”

Skadi returned her gaze back to Irina, hesitant in her own way, before she revealed her own information on the matter at hand, opening up a little more to the other girl. “I…did not say a word to him about what had happened either. He did not really ask - but something told me that he did not know, and it would be unwise for me to tell him about it because I feel that he will shut down completely or worse…try to walk away from not just you, but me as well. In an effort to ‘protect us’ no doubt. I do not want that but …I do not think the truth will stay hidden from him forever.”

The pale Valkyri fell silent, introspective, and a line of concern creased her brow, before she brought up those concerns to Irina.

“I care about him too…I do not want to lose him either. So what are we going to do…when he does learn the truth?” She then gestured towards Irina, to the area that had been injured.

“What happens when he sees your scars and asks about them? What then?”

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Tags: Haro Aven | Leshanna Dromar

​

Grounding himself in her presence, the big man merely murmured ”…not your fault” and “…busy elsewhere” to try offering reassurance that she wasn’t to blame. Naamino took a few more deep and steadying breaths after Lesh turned to tearfully address Haro. Hearing the hitch in her voice, listening to her say those few simple words to their wounded companion made him ache. The zabrak clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling helpless — more helpless even than when he’d been running from blaster fire with Haro cradled in his arms, the spark of life dwindling from his eyes.

Naami didn’t want to think of that though, had to fight the gravity of “what ifs“ and worst case scenarios. Haro was here, he was safe, Naami had made sure of that…

Still, the raw fear of loss and nagging sense of guilt that he could have done something more or better continued to eat at him.

Naami stayed stoic, standing strong, until both of his hearts skipped a beat as Haro stirred. Immediately the zabrak moved closer, making sure not to crowd Lesh where she held his hand but enough so he could give a warm, slightly sad smile at his friend’s greeting.

”Hey.”

Voice rough from fatigue and over use, it still conveyed the depth of emotion that their simple call and response evoked. Just when Naami looked like he might say something more, the tent flaps opened. Naami tensed and turned to glare, ready to dismiss whoever it was unless it was strictly medically necessary or they’d finally come to transfer Haro to a proper med bay.

Instead of any kind of medical professional, it was an altogether more familiar and concerning figure that stepped through the threshold: Major Rik Vane.

Naami stood to attention and his eyes snapped forward.

”Sir.”

Military training had kicked in before thought, and Naami awaited the man’s address.

”Zuukamano, pack whatever you have here and come with me.”

His tone brooked no argument but Naami balked nonetheless, to which Major Vane made a hand sign for “silence”. He did however offer the small courtesy of tipping his hat to Leshanna and curtly acknowledging Haro.

“Sergeant Aven, you’ll be transferred soon. Bit of a delay on that front but shouldn’t be more than another handful of hours. Apologies for the intrusion, Miss.“

Finally Naami found his voice and managed to use it in a way that was becoming of a Lieutenant of his renown when faced with higher ranking brass.

”Major Vane, I’ve been here to make sure-“

”I called for silence Zuukamano, and I meant it. I’m regretfully aware of what you’ve been doing while here: intimidating and obstructing medical staff, pulling rank at an inappropriate time, amount other things. You’re being court-martialed and I advise you to think very carefully before you make this worse for yourself.”

Every muscle of his body seemed to tense, his jaw clenched and brow furrowed, but he remained quiet. He hadn’t quite resolved to follow though, foot glued firmly in place.

 

[Srina Talon]

TAG: Mercy
LOCATION: Near the Fire "Celebrating"...But distant enough to watch the Drakes fly.

____________________________________________________

"You should. Your caloric intake must be astronomical."

The no-nonsense words were issued without any regard for whether they should be spoken. It could have come across as giving orders, which was something that her large companion never responded to well. Despite how rough Mercy could be around the edges, the pale sovereign had found that she responded better to patience and softness rather than pure violence. That didn't mean that Srina didn't occasionally deck her over the head with a brick…

But that was mostly reflex.

Many might have sneered if they knew how much the gluttonous creature actually ate, but few would consider the fuel it required for her cells to constantly renew when she was fighting. Monosaccharides would provide a burst of energy, but then, the woman would likely experience a crash…So Srina had opted for varying protein options. Just because she wasn't prodigious when it came to culinary pursuits didn't mean she didn't know what the body needed. She did have children, after all, and had been required to feed them—

—Just things that she hadn't cooked, for their own sake, not that she would ever admit it.

Her metallic gaze turned back toward the sky when the Empress in the Core drew her focus back toward the drakes that the Lady of Secrets had gifted them. Her eyes trailed after the movements. The smooth glides, the faint nips, and little roars that weren't meant to scare anyone. They weren't fighting for dominance, no matter how violent it got. They were testing limits, playing, like younglings enjoying a game of truth and dare.

"It might."

She drew her knees up and settled the Staff of Ascension at her side so that she could let her chin rest against the tops. Thin arms wrapped around her legs, noting that Mercy was indeed digging into her dinner as if she had been left in the desert to starve for weeks. "Chew. There are bones…", she warned, though, considering she'd seen the red-haired titan take a bite out of an Imperial, she wasn't so sure a little calcium and marrow was much of a hinderance.

Maybe a crunchy treat?

Srina breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly…Clearly, thinking. The sound of her people enjoying themselves after such harrowing battles should have brought her some measure of comfort. It did not. Her unease was palpable because she was always ready for the other shoe to drop. When something seemed too simple—It probably was. One of her hands settled back in the grass to reassure the ecosystem that she knew could hear her. The shining bioluminescent mycelium network ran just beneath them for thousands of meters, more, being honest. The more Psilofyr grew, the more he connected to all that Brosi was. She almost felt more connected to this planet than any other…Until a golden hand covered her own.

Squeezing.

The Devourer that slept in her body flared, annoyed, by the proximity of the Star Arm.

"…I do love the war."

It was her best-kept, secret, not secret. Her days were often spent trying to keep her people from tearing one another apart, but it was truly against her nature. Her body craved combat, the rush, the quiet that followed, and everything else in between. But she couldn't indulge that on a whim because it wasn't what was best for the Sith Order. It bothered her that Mercy saw through the silence, through her mask, and pulled on things that she had no right to know.

She could have ignored the question…But Srina Talon did not lie.

Did she want to strike back?

"Yes."

More than anything else in the galaxy, she wanted to pull the Legions together and rain down hellfire on every Imperial world until the Confederation broke. She didn't want them "gone" in the traditional sense. She wanted them broken, without hope, and ripped free of any moorings they held near their Holy Worlds. The yellow-gold of her eyes began to burn into a shade that was reminiscent of the inside of a forge while her anger surfaced. It was pure and clean—Not wild and unfocused.

She wanted them to suffer more than she wanted to win.​

"I do."

The admission was barely a whisper, but the truth rang in her bones. For so long…She had followed a policy of live and let live to give her nation time to heal and grow from their own internal strife. Now? Now, they spit in her eye. They burned her planets and killed her children with the impudence of amoeba that did not know their place, did not understand all they had wrought upon themselves. Her eyes closed. Head tilting, while she swallowed the anger, suppressed her rage. The time would come.

Her hand stayed where it was. Not returning the casual touch…But not pulling away.

"Why do you fight at my side, Mercy? There are a million battles to be fought. You could carve a bloody path through the galaxy without me…But you stay, even when it does not benefit you."

The question was fair, considering, and by this point, the Warlord would well know of her curious mind. It wasn't ignorance that bade her to ask but an innate need to know how things fit together. She could always see patterns, the way a puzzle ought to be, but Mercy was something of an enigma. "If it is for the sake of my Quinn or the Covenant—Your point has been made."

Her hand pulled away, facing forward, where her expression could not be seen. Darth Carnifex and Mercy had done the impossible to bring her back from the dead during the battle of Coruscant. They had both refused the claws of the reaper, choosing instead to tether her to this reality so hard that she could still feel them both. She wasn't sure how she felt about it and only knew for certain that she had to keep that ambiguity to herself.

Srina could not waver. She was stone, she was ice, she was unbreakable—Untouchable.

"You are strong. I am aware. You need not feel…Obligated."

 

[Lunaria Talon]

Tag: Revna Marr | Varin Mortifer
__
_______​

“Good evening.”

The handsome man with the molten-orange eye had noticed her.

All the quiet and calm bravado that she thought she had in her pocket melted away, and the pale skin of her cheeks filled with a rose-tinted hue. Silver eyes fluttered to the ground with something that could only be called innocence, strange though it was, to have that unseemly quality rear its ugly head. He didn’t seem angry that she’d been lingering close by…

“Good evening…”

Her voice was surprisingly steady, and internally she felt quite proud of it. Wvwn if it was soft. Her social skills were a far cry better than what her mother brought to bear, but they were still lacking. She’d spent most of her young life isolated in a time loop with only her mother, brother, and Haru for company. Then…She’d been enrolled in Jutrand Academy under a pseudonym. Artemis. From there, her days were filled with nothing but studies and training. It was only now that they had been given some measure of latitude in their activities.

Lunaria didn’t know what to do with it.

“Sir. Good evening, sir.”

The correction came with her eyes slowly rising from the ground, but it was just in time for Lady Marr to send the man on his way. The dismissal was plain, the tone something Lunaria had heard from their Sepulchral tutor’s time and time again. The young woman reached up and began to twist the end of her long braid around her fingers. It was a nervous tick. A bad habit that she had never been able to get rid of—No matter how she tried.

It was wrong for an Echani—For a people that had complete control over their body.

It must have been the Arkanian in her.

“Please forgive me…I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Lunaria would have mentioned the molten-eyed man by name, but she didn’t know it. Not because he was small, but because her whole world was small by design. It was the result of staying hidden for so long. Lunaria only knew about Lady Revna because her mother had spoken of her in the past. Sometimes, fondly. Sometimes almost worried.

If Srina Talon could be worried, if, there wasn’t an ice box where her heart ought to be.

She could feel the eyes of the elder woman, and Lunaria felt as if she were being evaluated. She didn’t object or complain, used to it, from their mentors watching them so closely. Looking for weakness. They ensured that she knew how imperfect she was and that she had many in the wake of her heart often peeking through her training. She should have learned to bury it.

Not to feel—At least, not to feel things that didn’t benefit her. It was just…A work in progress.

At the invitation to be seated, the raven-haired woman would likely see the slip of a woman release the breath she’d been holding. Trying too hard to remain stalwart and strong, as if she was emulating someone else rather than being herself. “I just…I wanted to thank you.”

“I know I shouldn’t have taken it, but we wanted to help. It was the only thing I could think of that might give us the strength we needed, but, if you hadn’t helped us…”

The scroll that Taeli Raaf had given them had also taken some of the weight away from the Staff of Ascension, but she had still felt it clawing through every fiber of her being. It wasn’t malicious by design, but it was pervasive and exacting, cruel, like the Emperor who had created it. It would have taken her life in a heartbeat. “I don’t know what would have happened.”

Yes—She did.

Either she would have died or Matteo, or both, and that was just a horrible, awful thought.

Slowly, Lunaria made her way toward Revna Marr and settled into the seat that had been offered. She would seem like a little bird, sitting on the edge, ready to fly away at any moment.

“My name is Artemis…”

The lie.

But a necessary one, at least, for now.

She glanced down at her lap and the armor that she’d pilfered from Jutrand without asking. Her fingers still toyed with the end of her braid, trying very hard, not to say the wrong thing.

But…she had to know, or it was going to eat her alive.

Eyes a particular shade of gun-metal blue lifted toward the beautiful woman’s face and stayed there for a long moment. Not with disrespect…Just, that she seemed to be trying to figure out something. Eventually, her head tilted in a way that Revna would find incredibly familiar. Inquisitive. It was another bird-like gesture, not that of a predatory hawk, but it was avian all the same. Eventually…Pale eyes softened. Full of wary, wary vulnerability.

“Do you…Know me?”

 

[Varin Mortifer]

BENEATH THE CANOPY​

“Good evening…”

Varin gave her a slow nod as she greeted him, his focus now turning to her more fully, a woman of white hair and striking eyes, cheeks flushed with a slight pink. He froze for a moment as she corrected herself, calling him Sir. He partially opened his mouth to say something before Lady Revna spoke to dismiss him, causing him to pause for a moment.

He looked back at her.

“...of course master. It was good to see you again.”

He spoke the last part a bit softly, a slight change in his posture and facial expression showing one of slight sadness, before he turned back to the young lady.

“Varin, Varin Mortifer.”

He gave her a soft smile, before speaking softly towards her, dipping his head.

“Excuse me.”

He slowly walked past her as the smoldering cloak started to run out of his back like a swirling cloud of pyroclastic flows. The heat flowing off of him like a hot summer breeze, with the scent of burning leaves and wood.

He stepped away walking back to the tree line, stopping just before crossing over to get a small glance back, just in time to see Lady Revna put up a bubble of force, a shimmering dome of silence and privacy.

Varin knew, it must have been something important.

He let it go.

He was able to exchange a few words with his master in person, he was at least thankful for that.

THE FIRES OF CELEBRATION​

Varin slowly made his way back to the fires of celebration, giving his master and her guest the space they required.

Stopping just inside the tree line overlooking the festivities. No sign of Darth Strosius , Lina Ovmar nor Madrona A’Mia . Just faces partly familiar and strangers.

Varin withdrew within himself, looking at each being silently analyzing each person.

He made his way back towards one of the fires, slowly sitting down upon his knees and setting his helm beside him. He looked into the flames. Breathed slowly, then closed his eyes almost in a meditative state to calm his nerves.

Revna Marr | Lunaria Talon
OPEN​

 

[Irina Jesart]

Skadi Lightbane Torvald Aerik Lechner

​

For a long moment, Irina said nothing, her gaze drifting past Skadi to the many fires beyond, out of reach of their quiet conversation. Her hand moved, running over the fresh scars concealed beneath the fabric of her dress. She sighed, her hand dropping as she looked back down at Skadi.

“I will keep the scars hidden for as long as I can.”

That did not answer Skadi’s question and she knew it. A dozen possibilities ran through her mind, arguments that had not yet happened. She pictured his reactions, all of them angry or hurt, all of them made her stomach twist. She swallowed.

“I won’t lie to him. So if he sees them, then I will tell him the truth. But I’m not going to let him walk away.”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Revna Marr //: Lunaria Talon //:
//: Attire //:

Typhojem had finally convinced the young woman to leave the Mors Mon. It only took telling Quinn that Srina Talon was still planet-side and that if she had any issues, to take them up with her. As the woman left, the droid representing Typhojem nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

Quinn descended to the planet and felt the soil of Brosi once more under her feet. She sought to find Srina, demanding an explanation why she wasn't allowed to obliterate the entire Imperial fleet with the Mors Mon.

The ship was capable, and it would have ended this attempt on Brosi once and for all. Still, Quinn was denied, but at least the Sith defended their worlds.

Her eyes scanned the group of people searching for her mother; it didn't take long — the woman was hard to miss. She sat with Mercy , and the sight made her nose wrinkle in frustration. It was a clear reminder of the gap between her and Mercy — maybe she found conversation more intriguing with the Empress of the Sith Empire… instead of the little Princess playing Queen of a world.

Quinn rolled her eyes. She should have just stayed on the Mors Mon — at least there she could have her tantrum in peace. Still, begrudgingly, she stayed in the world they had just defended. Before she got the bright idea to interrupt Srina and Mercy, a small voice echoed through the nearby space.

Her eyes settled on the crown of white snow, a familiar braid, one from her youth. Quinn had once worn a braid like that, until she decided she needed to distinguish herself from the other Echani, from Noelle. A smile still crossed her lips as she noticed the little nervous tic of her younger sister.

Hands folded behind her back as she moved towards the girl and the pair she was speaking to. It was then she felt the cold chill of Lunaria's question.

No, that's supposed to be a secret.

Quinn raised a brow as she drew closer. When she arrived, though, her face softened as she looked at Artemis.

"I've heard you've had an exciting time," Quinn answered with a smile, her voice honeyed in a way that she rarely spoke to her students with. At the Academy, Quinn watched carefully over the twins — despite the glares from Sol, Luna often seemed happy to see the young Professor.

Quinn let her smile linger for a moment, and then she extended her hand towards Revna.

"Quinn Varanin, and you are?"

There were too many faces, too many dangers that lingered in this party. Luna's life and the secret about them was the most important thing to the Dark Councilor.

Quinn would burn the galaxy for one of the few people that she considered her true family.

 

[Revna Marr]

Tags: Lunaria Talon // Quinn Varanin ​

Revna could tell that her dismissal, while accepted by Varin for what it was, did not sit well with him. There was a lilt to his posture, his expression, that told her he was sad for it. She gave him as much of a reassuring smile as she could, and would endeavor to meet up with him again. Maybe not tonight or right away, but soon.

She observed the interaction, however brief, awkward though rather interesting, between Varin and the pale haired young lady. He wouldn’t know who she was, at least she hoped he didn’t, though he gave the young woman his name as he passed by her.

Then, it was just Revna and the young pale haired woman. She was playing with her braid, a motion that Revna picked up on. It seemed to be a tic of some kind, perhaps from nervousness.

“Please forgive me…I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Revna’s smile widened slightly, not unfriendly, but more to allow the girl to relax somewhat. “Your interruption does not offend me.” the raven haired Vahla responded in the same quiet, soft spoken voice. With the invitation to sit beside her, she could see the girl almost breathe a sigh of relief - though she certainly still tried to remain stalwart.

“I just…I wanted to thank you. I know I shouldn’t have taken it, but we wanted to help. It was the only thing I could think of that might give us the strength we needed, but, if you hadn’t helped us…” the girl said as she moved slowly towards Revna. “I don’t know what would have happened.”

"I was happy to lend my aid to you. And, let us be honest here...with a ritual that powerful...we both know what would have happened to you and your male companion had you not had support in that. It was very brave of you...but very very risky and dangerous."

She eventually seated herself besides Revna, setting down as light and elegant as a bird - and ready to take flight at a moment’s notice, too. Revna made no move towards or away from the girl, keeping her hands folded in her lap as she regarded the younger woman with patience and perhaps a touch of…warmth?

“My name is Artemis…”

The girl looked down at her lap, still toying with her silken braid. She practically glowed under the lantern light, and Revna idly mused that she was like a captured moonbeam that had been transformed into a living being. She was absolutely beautiful, ethereal, even.

Her grace and beauty reminded her eerily of someone else she knew.

And when this girl, Artemis, tilted her head - it was done in a manner that was all too familiar- and it all but confirmed Revna's suspicions. Her steel blue eyes softened, became vulnerable, and she found the courage to ask the question that had no doubt been eating at her since Revna had stepped in to offer her aid.

“Do you…know me?”

Revna inhaled the night air slowly, releasing it with a softness that was almost imperceptible. She had to be careful with how she answered the young lady, for she fell almost certain that her suspicions were correct.

“Firstly, my name is Revna.” she started, giving the girl her name to help ease the discomfort or tension Artemis might be feeling. “Do I know you, no…not personally. But I do believe I know who you are.” A mischievous glint danced in Revna’s ember eyes for a moment as she slightly leaned in as if to share a deep secret with the girl. “My suspicions tell me that you are related to Lady Srina Talon. My proof: when I saw you, initially, Lady Talon’s own battle drake was guarding you. Secondly, I observed the staff you had in your possession, and I felt the distinct presence of Darth Empyrean radiating from it. I am also very much aware of the fact that they are married - and have been for quite some time. Long enough, perhaps, to have a child together.”

With this, she turned her full attention upon Artemis - before sensing the arrival of someone else into their private little sanctuary. Revna looked up and away from Artemis, and spotted a second woman approaching their location. This person she already knew.

It was Quinn Varanin - Heir Apparent, another child of Empyrean and Srina, though she was adopted into the family. If Revna recalled correctly too, Quinn had also ascended the throne of Eshan to become its Queen.

Quinn smiled at Artemis and addressed her, before turning her attention upon Revna, extending her hand out to the raven haired Apprentice of Darth Strosius.

"Quinn Varanin, and you are?"

“Revna Marr.” she replied with respect, taking Quinn’s hand in greeting, along with a respectful dip of her chin. “A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” she then gestured to the soft mossy ground with her and Artemis. “You two seem to know one another. Please, sit with us if you would like, Quinn.” Revna paused and frowned slightly, a cheeky little smirk touching her lips.

“...it is okay if I refer to you as Quinn, right? I can refer to you by a title of respect if you wish. I don’t wish to be impertinent.” ​

 

[Lirka Ka]

TAGS: Neryn Ka

Threat assessment never stopped. Lirka saw ghosts and specters judging and hateful in every dark corner - in these moments of lucidity, she was just good about keeping a stern face about it. Some of those specters just happened to be more flesh-and-blood than others. Councillors, Dark Lords, fanatical cultists, all walks within the Sith domain were given the scrutinizing eye. And of course, a Ka needed to be included in that as well.

They all shared some of Lirka’s many accursed traits. None of the spawns-of-Ka had been particularly stable - be that mentally or physically. Neryn Ka had been a starker deviation from her base genetic stock than ever before - it only took the briefest of glance toward his smoldering energy to see that. His existence was data for whatever crimes against nature Lirka would perpetuate in the future to extend her wretched existence - and Lirka knew well the scorn that came with being a thing of science. Lirka lived by many mantras, but a prime one had become “the blade at your side is the same as the blade in your back”. Neryn was powerful. Unstable. For now, obedient. He had yet to become a dangerous variable.

So instead, she turned her gaze back to the crowd and listened to her Spawn’s assessment. She gave no great response yet, let the words hang in the air for the two monsters shuffled away in the background while the rest enjoyed the pleasantries of victory. Lirka’s war was a spiritual one, and a war that had no great end in sight. The next move always needed to be plotted.

“Apt. Yet too wide a berth. The Sith only move in unity when they are threatened - it would not be all that would wish to see the name of Ka erased. Merely a few. It becomes a matter of picking out which potential foe is the most dangerous of all. That is the true challenge. Yet, you are still fledgling - I would not expect of you to know the intricacies of our many potential foes. There is enough power here, gorging themselves on the indulgences of victory, to reshape the Galaxy itself.”

She counted herself among that number of course. Justifiably? Well. That was a matter of debate for a rat like Lirka Ka who had miraculously scuttled her way to some modicum of notoriety instead of ending up disgraced or scorned.

Then in perhaps a moment most odd, she gave her monstrous child a solid pat upon the shoulder. A moment of brief affection that felt so grossly unnatural - a puppeteer emulating emotion. With each of her many remolding Lirka lost more and more of that humanity she scorned. Yet, Lirka Ka lied as easily as she breathed and that followed to making herself seem

“Do not dance so eagerly to throw your brief existence away in hypotheticals, child-of-mine. I have already considered several potential routes of retreat were it required. I shall impart on you wisdom I have learned from battlefields innumerable and Empires long-dead: the cowards do survive.”

And when all was said and done, Lirka Ka existed in the paradoxical existence of a fearless coward. She was always ready for a hasty escape when her house of cards came tumbling down - such was the cycle of a life beneath Darkness Primordial.

​

​

 

[Skadi Lightbane]

Direct Tag: Irina Jesart
Others: Aerik Lechner // Torvald ​

Irina was quiet for a moment, her hand idly sliding up to rub over her still healing scars, almost as if reliving that horrific moment. Skadi almost regretted bringing it up, but she couldn’t take back her words now. Irina dropped her hand back to her side with a sigh and said that she would keep the scars hidden for as long as she possibly could.

It hadn’t answered Skadi’s question, and the Valkyri noticed that. But she didn’t push for it. If Irina didn’t want to answer something, then who was Skadi to pressure her to do so?

“I won’t lie to him. So if he sees them, then I will tell him the truth. But I’m not going to let him walk away.”

There was some comfort in hearing that - and trepidation as well. The truth would cause a lot of heartache for not just Aerik and Irina, but Skadi too. She knew the truth, and was not revealing it to him. It wasn’t that she was outright lying to him. If he asked, she would be honest and upfront about it - even if it was devastating news to unveil.

"I will not keep it from him either...if he asks me about it. And I will not let him walk away either. So it seems we are of the same mind as that."

But hearing Irina say that she would not let Aerik just walk away, brought up another conundrum for Skadi. She wasn’t entirely sure if now was the right time to bring up this conversation…but when would it ever be? When would they have the chance to, again?

“Irina…there is something that I must discuss with you, and I cannot…stay quiet about it. We are in private now, and I have debated on if this is a good time or not but…also, when will we ever have another moment like this, where it is just us, you know? I am a little nervous to talk about this because well...we do not know each other very well, though I would like to change that.”

Skadi looked down at her hands and began to play with an errant strand of thread on her blouse - an indication that she was perhaps, nervous. Skadi inhaled a deep breath and let it go, steeling her nerves. She didn’t want another fight with this girl…and she hoped her honesty didn’t take them there, again.

“It is very clear that we both…are fond of Aerik. He knows how we both feel about him, too - even if he does not act upon it. I…I told him that I was willing to back away, despite how strongly I feel for him, because I did not want to come between the two of you and whatever it is you have going on. He told me did not want that, that he needed us both - but he does not know what that looks like, or what to do with that. I…am not going anywhere, and neither are you. So I think it would be good for us to figure out…where to go from here. With each other, and with him. And the sooner we begin to find our path forward on this…the sooner we can move as a single unit…a true pack. And maybe it will help him not be stuck in this limbo, unsure of what to do or how to move forward.”

 

[Lunaria Talon]

Tag: Revna Marr | Varin Mortifer | Quinn Varanin
__
_______​

“Varin, Varin Mortifer.”

He gave her a soft smile, before speaking softly towards her, dipping his head.

“Excuse me.”

He slowly walked past her as the smoldering cloak started to run out of his back like a swirling cloud of pyroclastic flows. The heat flowing off of him like a hot summer breeze, with the scent of burning leaves and wood.

She wanted to tell him her name.

Not the assumed identity that she had offered lamely to Revna Marr and so many others. Her heart sank lower, if only, because the isolation was settling in so deeply. Soldane had been away for so long that she felt like she was missing a piece of herself. Matteo Guo-Yian was the only friend she had who seemed to be a constant, who stayed, even after knowing her secrets. He knew that her Haru was Darth Carnifex …That the man she fondly (and incorrectly) referred to as “Uncle” was Darth Prazutis and that her father was the Corpse King.

He knew who her mother was, and he hadn’t turned away.

Lunaria was willing to bet that most people wouldn’t be so open-minded or understanding once they realized the truth of her family. Who would be willing to stand by her once they understood the truth of the web of lies she lived in? She lied to herself, to everyone, every minute of every day. Her shoulders drew stiffly back as her posture straightened.

She couldn’t fall apart just because she couldn’t give Varin Mortifer her real name.

‘It would be nice to meet you.’

Would have been.

She took a fortifying breath while she sat down near the Lady Marr and waited silently for the answer to her question. Her heart was pounding so loud that she feared the raven-haired woman might hear it over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. She forgave the interruption as if it wasn’t one at all, so perhaps, it was Lord Mortifer she owed the true apology to. She had the grace to look properly chastised, however.

The ritual with the Staff of Ascension had been beyond her.

“We had to help.”

Lunaria didn’t understand. It was the same perspective her mother had offered, though her words had been laced with a quiet fury that the woman-child could not fully grasp. It had been wrong to disobey, but didn’t their elders put their lives on the line for the Sith Order during each battle? It felt like such an incredible double standard.

How was it fair that her mother risked her life for the legacy of Darth Empyrean , but Lunaria was not allowed to do the same? The end of her braid twisted around her fingers. Over and under, over and over, while her question hung in the air like a swinging noose. She was silent while she listened to the explanation, slowly, falling so still that she barely seemed to breathe. It was a trait that also belonged to another.

The stillness.

But I do believe I know who you are.

That made one of them.

My suspicions tell me that you are related to Lady Srina Talon.

But how?

Long enough, perhaps, to have a child together.”

Two.

Internally, Lunaria was screaming. Silver eyes were fixed on the Lady Marr, to Revna, as if she were looking through her rather than seeing her. She didn’t know what to say, how to lie, to shift the spotlight toward something else so that her false identity would remain intact. She wanted it gone so badly, but knew it wasn’t safe. “Please…Lady Revna…I—”

"I've heard you've had an exciting time," Quinn answered with a smile, her voice honeyed in a way that she rarely spoke to her students with. At the Academy, Quinn watched carefully over the twins — despite the glares from Sol, Luna often seemed happy to see the young Professor.

Now wouldn’t be any different. Relief. It was so sweet that she almost released the breath she’d been holding in a whimper. She had never been in this position, and the internal crisis she was incapable of working through was breaking through all of her calm and hard-earned training. No one else could relate. No one else could understand the yearning for the love of a Father that might kill her on sight.

The need for a mother who seemed to be a mother to EVERYONE but her.

Lunaria let her head incline, and her eyes dropped low, subservient, wishing that she could embrace Quinn as she might have if they were alone. Her elder sister always made things better. Every monster, every nightmare, she always had an answer for it—And this was one heck of a nightmare. It exposed her, but it also exposed the Lady Revna, who had been nothing but kind to her. The Sith Lord had saved her life.

Saved Matteo.

This secret was a taker of lives. The Lady Revna…Did not deserve to die. Force...What had she done?

“My Lady Queen.”

She didn’t lift her head because, regardless of what planet they stood on, regardless of their bond, the fact that she had taken the throne of Eshan made Quinn so much more than her sister. More than her treasured Professor. Lunaria had always idolized Quinn Varanin , and that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. The way she moved with confidence and commanded power was something that Lunaria could only dream of.

Or steal.

She let them both speak without interruption, respectful, but also feeling a cold chill run down her spine. Her silence had all but admitted it. She had frozen…And that would be the only reaction any Sith might lead to come to conclusions. Revna had too many pieces of the puzzle.

“Lady Marr…Revna…Helped Matteo and I. We might have…Borrowed Kala'anda from Jutrand.”

Lunaria could not hide a wince. Quinn would know the name...And might have an inkling about how furious her mother had been. Even if Luna still didn't understand why. Her eyes never lifted from her lap.

Quinn had not given her leave to do so.

They were not equal, regardless of love, and Lunaria…Was so very small.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin’s moment of meditation was cut short at the sweet scent of a warm beverage near him, his senses focused on the scent, a small vision of someone sitting by themselves. Varin’s eyes opened and he slowly stood up, picking up his helm.

He may have felt out of place, but these were supposed to be social gatherings, if he had no one to talk to then he would find someone.

He followed the trail of the scent, passing through people and their conversations, ignoring their protests of his intrusion, walking past the fires as its warmth and heat bathed over his body.

He stopped where the origin of the scent drew from, his molten eye looking towards Reina at her bruised face and split lip.

“Good evening.”

He recognized her from an earlier battle, but at the time she was his enemy. Now she shared in the drinks and flames of allies, he would treat her as one then.

“You fought here as well?”

He spoke quietly as his eye traced her force signature, committing it to his memory.

“Would you mind if I sat with you?”

Reina Daival​

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Varin Mortifer
Objective:

"I told you I wasn't a Jedi."

Those were the first words that escaped her lips, at the sound of a somewhat familiar voice. A somewhat pained smile making its way on her face, as she continued to stare into the flames. Her thoughts blazing past her at lightspeed. There was plenty on her mind but perhaps that was her issue. She was thinking far too much.

"Go ahead. Sit. And yes. I did fight here. I was with Darth Carnifex. On the tree."

The tree. She hadn't put any effort into learning its name. To her, trees were trees. But this battle had made her realise otherwise. It was a living creature. The Dark Side had been flowing through its roots, in the same way that it flowed through her veins from the river. From that...whatever He had done with those bodies. She turned her wrist towards herself for a moment, almost as if she expected to see black veins, with tainted ichor running through them. But they were normal. Bruised. Battered. A bit bloodied. But normal.

Her gaze finally flicked up towards Varin, as she tilted her head to the side almost. There were plenty of comments she could make. She could be blunt, like she so often was. Tell him that he looked like kark. She could just keep her comments to herself, there was no need to waste her breath. Instead the Siren broke out into a slight smirk, as she folded her arms along her front.

"...You look different. Done something with your hair?"

Of course, she meant his eye. But it was more fun to joke with it. In a way, it was ironic to her. In the past, she had lost a leg before it was forcibly given back to her. She had the peg-leg of a pirate, whereas Varin was missing the eye like one. Well, he wasn't necessarily missing it, but you get the point. Strange how the Galaxy worked it seemed.
​

 

[Irina Jesart]

Skadi Lightbane Aerik Lechner Torvald

Something in Skadi shifted, nervousness shifted her expression before she spoke again. Irina didn’t interrupt, watching the nervousness grow the more she spoke. Irina kept her face impassive, not wanting to make it harder for her to talk.

When Skadi looked down, playing with a thread on her blouse Irina almost thought it was endearing…

Until the words fell out of her mouth.

Heat rose faster than she could stop it. The source of her anger not entirely clear to even herself as it pulsed outwards once, bathing the valkyri in a wave of scorching heat that made the bark of the tree crack behind her.

He needed them both?

He had told Irina that he loved her, yet he told Skadi he wanted her too? The heat pulsed again once more before she pulled it back in, sucking in a deep breath and closing her eyes she forced the fire back down where it belonged. “Sorry.” she muttered.

Silence pressed between them as Irina tried to understand, to process the information she had been given. “I don’t…” she said after a moment, opening her eyes to look back down at Skadi. “I am not sure I understand…”

Another breath. “How?”

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin gave her a slight smirk as he sat with her, setting his helm onto the table.

“Truth be told, it was simply just not a good day that day.”

He chuckled then looked to the massive tree she gestured towards.

“I was busy with claiming Coruscant then I received word of Brosi, decided to visit to see some familiar faces.”

He watched the familiar tilt of her head as she posed her question, the eye itched a bit causing his brow to twitch slightly.

“A lot had changed since we had first met. I lost my eye thanks to a sneaky Sithspawn. But its victory was short lived.”

He watched as a waitress set down a mug of some drink in front of him, the scent of mead hit his nose and he slowly picked it up, giving a soft sip.

“This happens to be my third cup tonight, hopefully I can actually finish this one.”

He thought back as to where his second cup had gone, perhaps he left it with Lady Revna and the striking young lady with her. A sigh left his lips as he leaned back into the seat.

“What have you been up to since we last met? It’s clear you are filling in to quite a potential Sith.”

He took another slow sip before setting the mug down.

Reina Daival
Mentions: Revna Marr | Lunaria Talon​

 

[Neryn Ka]

For one long moment, Neryn was certain he'd said something he shouldn't have. That was the Creator's way, of course. You never quite knew where you stood, at least not for any great length of time. He began to doubt that his answer had been satisfactory.

At times, the Creator was a harsh overseer. At other times, strangely nurturing. Neryn's theory, backed up by his nonexistent life experience, was that this was a way of keeping the schemers and plotters that surrounded them on the back-foot. Nobody ever knew what flavor of Lirka Ka they'd get that day, or even that hour.

Sometimes, Neryn wasn't sure if even the Creator herself knew. Another lesson, one among many: unpredictability pays off.

Then the Creator's hand touched his shoulder. The artificiality of the gesture was, of course, lost on Neryn. Approval was approval, and he would cheerfully take it where he could get it. Neryn was a creature that existed in a near-perpetual state of pain, ranging from mild irritation to exquisitely-intense agony when his fires burned hottest. Only two things brought him close to what saner beings might be able to identify as "happiness". Violence, and the Creator's moments of positive attention.

As much as he craved the Creator's approval, he also feared her anger above all other things. Of course, he knew on the objective level that such feelings were artificial. The armored giant before him had woven the strands of his being together for a purpose, and presumably, that purpose didn't include the possibility of betrayal.

Not that Neryn would ever plan such a thing, of course. So far, his terrible life-hunger and destructive tendencies had only turned themselves towards creatures weaker and smaller than he.

The Creator was neither of those things, and thus, mostly off the menu as a prey item. Neryn viewed most (if not all) other beings as weaker, whether accurately or not. They would enjoy no such restraint.

He nodded along to her words with typical wide-eyed acceptance, mentally filing that one away as he always did. Neryn had a youngster's sponge-like capacity for learning, and for better or worse, took his lessons to heart quickly. No slow learner was he. Fortunately, Lirka didn't have to teach Neryn the benefits of cowardice: he was a Ka. It was in his very soul.

"Of course, Creator-Mother." He responded. "I would rather be thought ill of than be dead." Now the winged Sephi-thing was looking around, turning his neck around at various unusual and impossible angles, much like the bird of prey he so much resembled. He wasn't quite as adroit at finding exits as she, through an unfortunate combination of youth and laziness, but if the Creator saw value in it, it must surely be so.

He peered about suspiciously, wondering which one of these miserable snakes would be a problem in the future. The part of him that hungered almost uncontrollably for bloodshed seethed, urging him to draw his blade right now and pry the truth from them.

The Ka part of him, of course, knew better. Neryn was coming to understand that there was a time and place for breaking his toys.

"Who among them are the worst, so that I might know who to keep the closest watch on?"