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

[Madrona A’Mia]

​

Brosi
Objective 3
Tags: Lina Ovmar | Darth Strosius

Moving more sluggishly than was her norm, the neti slowly continued to snack whilst the others spoke. A smile tugged the edges of her mouth at the way Lina admonished Alisteri and the way in which he responded.

Still, there was something about her that seemed far away. As if part of her still wandered the roots of the world tree, echoes of Brosi's pain still burning, cinders pock-marking her psyche. The world was safe for now though, Psilofyr was safe. The neti had much to think on grief and loss though, having truly experienced it for the first time ever.

Those wide, strange eyes of hers blinked and refocused as Lina reached out to touch and something within her bearing became more grounded.

“We compliment each other so well.”

"That we do," A'Mia agreed with a depth of meaning that went just beyond talk of combat compatibility.

Lina encouraged and matched a kind of mischief that the arboreal woman had found in few others. Her mind wandered again to Revna Marr , worry knitting her brow slightly. Then Alisteri spoke and A'Mia's flagging attention returned to the present moment.

"Rann was quite accommodating, malul , I have no complaints." He paused and inclined His head as a slight smile crept into His tone. "I rather enjoyed that Rainmaker cannon the city had. If you'd be willing to share, I'd be delighted to get the information of the installers from you. Or ideally the schematics themselves, I wouldn't mind having one of those installed on a star destroyer."

Surprise overtook her and this time she looked between her two companions. Was this… bashfulness she suddenly felt? The combined attentions of her companions and the drained state she found herself in was enough to make her choose her next words more slowly. She found that she rather enjoyed this new experience despite how little experience she had in managing such emotions and she didn’t want to fumble things now.

"Consider them yours, Alisteri — I'm pleased that you were able to enjoy yourself during such grim business."

Ordinarily upright and proper, the neti's form sagged and listed to the side a bit. She leaned toward the woman who'd just shown affection that A'Mia felt eager to know more of and her face turned toward the Prophet even as she rested her head on Lina's shoulder.

Though the woman's reputation as an academic was well known, she didn't often display her fluency with High Sith.

"Nu natita an tuti sarini is timias shukûâ, kad an titji tu'iyia arita zo rurzisakwu armijio. Dari ki ri shuriji iw dorizi ki ir ki dyitura?"

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Aboard the Mors Mon //:
//: OPEN ? //:

Space was still. The storms returned to their corners of the hyperlanes, protecting the gateways through the Blackwall. With her intervention, the storms only grew hungrier, more powerful as they waited for those foolish enough to try. Each of the stormseeds retreated into the wall, waiting as the defenses quieted down. Everything returned to stillness, everything waited.

The Mors Mon had not left the sector, as it was used now to funnel support to those on Brosi and Florrum. Its massive shadow hovered over the world tree now, protecting it like a god. At its helm, in the secluded meditation sphere, a small Echani woman curled up…

Sobbing.

Her cries echoed in the room, thankfully kept contained, and had been ongoing since the battle concluded. The Mors Mon had sustained no damage and had stood strong against anything that could have gone against it. There was no reason for the girl to be having the tantrum she was having. No one had stood against her or had attempted to attack her mentally through her connection with the Force.

No reason stood in the way of Quinn celebrating victory.

The HRD that represented the AI's form still held onto the force collar. It was a fail-safe if the entities had decided to recreate what happened on Coruscant. Quinn had programmed it, asked Typhojem to be prepared to shut her down, but this…

It wasn't in the protocol. Turning left to right, the HRD looked around at the cameras. None of the crew was aware of what was occurring. To the best of their knowledge, Quinn had needed extra rest after the battle and the power that she had channeled into the storms.

They were not privy to the tantrum the Echani was throwing, which, in the end, benefited Quinn and her image.

Shuffling forward, Typhojem leaned over towards her and twisted his head in an attempt to mimic a comforting pose.

"Princess…" the voice doing its best to comfort her in its robotic tone. "It's been three days… how aren't you out of tears yet?" There was genuine concern that, according to every database, she should be done. Quinn only cried louder as she brought her knees tighter to her chest. Her eyes only peered over her crossed arms as she glared at him.

"NO!" She flailed her feet, kicking them as she cried again.

"This… This isn't the behavior of a future Empr—"

"It's YOUR fault!" She shouted over him.

There was a sudden realization, and the droid sighed and nodded.
"The Empress ordered—"

Another cry as she continued to press the large button near the command seat. It's duraplast, like clicking echoed as she groaned.

On the screen, it read: Unauthorized User.

 

[Neryn Ka]

Neryn scratched his white-haired head with the clawed digit of his left wing, shrugged, and nodded. He had no broader context for his creator's ramblings, and thus, no reason to take them as anything less than fact.

"Perhaps I will have some scars of my own, should we retaliate against these Imperials." Neryn didn't know much about the Imperials (or about anything) but had gathered that they were frowned upon by those around him. Thus, there would surely be no pushback if he killed some. Neryn had the limit-testing drive and boundless curiosity typical of youth, though being a Ka, both tended toward the murderous and the cruel.

Lirka's dry comment sailed well over his head, earning another birdlike tilt of the neck in apparent confusion. Neryn had seen a few bugs so far, and killed a few of the larger ones to test the sharpness of his blade and wing-claws, but had yet to encounter one large enough and strong enough to maul so mighty a warrior as the Creator.

Dimly, it dawned on him after a few seconds that the Creator was not being literal. Never the sharpest tool in the shed at the best of times, Neryn finally let out a low, ugly chuckle with more than a hint of boyish cruelty.

"I trust you squashed it? A bug deserves no less." He clenched the fingers of his left hand dramatically. Oh, how he wished he had been there, to squash the bug himself and prove his worth as the greatest of the Progenitor's offspring.

Neryn had come out of the tank broken and hideous, but after pain, his second sensation had been ambition. The innate sense that this galaxy was his plaything, his to conquer and break and pick apart.

Of course, to Neryn, a week or so ago was ancient, before his time. He had a sense of dim prehistory in his mother's mention of that very recent battle, and more than a little awe in imagining how the Creator's invincible might must surely have quickly swept the bug aside.

Neryn himself was shorter and slimmer than the hulking Lirka Ka by far, with a frame that suggested none of the same sheer physical power. Despite that, there was deceptive strength there, strength he was unbearably eager to test against a proper enemy.

More than that, he was hungry, a sort of hunger that no amount of meat or wine seemed able to stifle. He could feel it churning deep in his false-heart.

"Oh, I will find all the bugs, mother." He chattered. "Find them and burn them and all their wretched little kind in retribution." Neryn possessed something of Lirka's love for grandiose proclamation, if none of her wit and philosophical tact. However, he did enjoy burning things, almost as much as he enjoyed eating them.

 

[Torvald]

TORVALD

FIRES OF CELEBRATION​

Torvald gave him a chuckle as he slapped his hand on his shoulder.

“Lad, watered down drinks is an absolute sin! And not only will we be drinking well in their memory, that means we are drinking for them!”

He laughed as he took another massive gulp of the sweet nectar that he had brought forth.

“Every battle I plan on my entire squadron having a few drinks each.”

He wiped his arm over his mouth, wiping away the left over mead from his beard.

“That means I do not want to see a drop of extra mead left over. So for those that fell, we also drink their share, excluding their first mug of course. That gets offered to the ground for them.”

He looked towards the dirt at their feet, the fire light dancing off the shadows, the warmth of flame,company and alcohol was met with jovial welcomeness.

He listened to Aerik speak of reminders, and thoughts of those who still stand with him.

“Aye, you are right, Lad. Sure we may have had sacrifices, but we still have many faces and voices with us tonight.”

His eyes tore to the sound of a fight nearby as someone crashed through a table yelling obscenities at the other, a fight of fun between a member of Torvald’s crew and Gerwald’s as they laughed tackling each other into the mud.

“Some of these boys have a hard time holding their liquor.”

He looked over to Aerik.

“Lad, you have my permission to embarrass yourself entirely. That's what these parties are for. Take those two for example.”

He gestured to the sparring Second Legion members.

“At the moment they are not thinking of who they represent, or their orders. They are lost in the moment of kinship and brotherhood. Most Sith would frown upon it sure, but if we can't enjoy ourselves and cut loose every now and then, well…”

He poured more mead into his mug.

“We would never have celebrations, only boring meetings and slog fests.”

His eyes watched the dancing flames before he took another small sip.

“You're already falling behind boy.”

Torvald smiled and gestured to his stein.

Aerik Lechner | Skadi Lightbane | Irina Jesart​

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
TAG: Skadi Lightbane | Irina Jesart | Torvald​

Aerik felt the impact of Torvald’s hand on his shoulder and allowed himself a quiet breath, the warmth of fire and mead settling together in a way that eased the last edge of tension he had been carrying since the fighting ended. He listened as the older warrior spoke of drinking for those who could not, his gaze drifting briefly to the earth at their feet where the first mugs would be offered, and he inclined his head in quiet agreement.

“That seems fitting,” he said, his voice calm. “They carried their share in the fight. The least we can do is carry it here.”

He lifted his stein and took a longer drink this time, letting the aged mead burn slightly on the way down before settling warmly in his chest. The strength of it drew a faint exhale from him, not quite a laugh but close enough to acknowledge Torvald’s earlier warning.

The sound of bodies crashing through a table drew his attention, and he turned his head just in time to see two warriors grappling in the mud with more enthusiasm than coordination. A hint of amusement touched his expression as he watched them attempt to regain footing while their companions shouted encouragement that only made the situation worse.

“They look determined,” he said lightly. “Though I suspect the ground is winning.”

He shifted slightly on the log, the firelight catching along the scar at his jaw as he listened to Torvald speak of celebration and the necessity of letting the moment breathe. There was truth in it, the kind that did not need debate, and Aerik allowed himself to settle more fully into the atmosphere of shared survival.

At the comment about falling behind, he glanced down at his stein and then back at Torvald, a small smile forming.

“I would not want to dishonor tradition,” he said, raising the mug in quiet acknowledgment before taking another steady drink.

He lowered the stein and rested it loosely in his hands, watching the flames for a moment as laughter and music continued around them.

“I think they would prefer to see us standing like this,” he added, his tone thoughtful but warm. “Alive, loud, and arguing over whose turn it is to drink next.”

The corner of his mouth lifted a little further as he glanced sideways at Torvald.

“If my mother catches us drinking this much, we are both likely to be forced to sleep outside.”

The words carried quiet humor, spoken with the easy familiarity of someone who knew exactly how such a situation might unfold.

He lifted the stein again, settling back as the warmth of the fire and the steady presence of good company eased the weight of the day into something more bearable.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Tags: Madrona A’Mia Darth Strosius​

The sharpness that had edged her tone faded the moment Alisteri recognised her the her words were not a threat, but a promise, the corner of her mouth lifting to a small smile, but her gaze almost instantly drifted to A’Mia, concern still showing in her face.

She was slower with her words and with her movement, and so very distracted. She’d spent enough time in the neti’s company to recognise that she liked to pay attention, not just to what she was doing, but to the people around her, mirroring them where she could. But tonight, she was not as attentive, her focus kept drifting to some faraway place.

When she slumped and leaned towards her, Lina did not hesitate, arms wrapping around her form, supporting and embracing her. Her gaze settled on Alisteri, the anger that lingered in her chest still playing at the edges of her eyes. Not at him, but at the Imperials, at herself for not being here. What had they done to her A’Mia?

She closed her eyes, cheek pressing against A’Mia’s temple.

“Ri shuriji waria tuti ri, ki manatsa” she replied softly, before opening her eyes.

 

[Leshanna Dromar]

Tags: Haro Aven // Naamino Zuukamano ​

Leshanna embraced Naami tightly before scanning him quickly. His jumpsuit was torn and damaged and he sported minor injuries but seemed mostly unscathed. The same couldn’t be said for Haro on the cot nearby, who was hooked up to monitors and a drip line in his hand, and his head was cradled to hold his neck and head immobile - and a large bacta patch was wrapped around his torso.

The young woman’s expression became strained, stricken, as she glanced between the two of them as Naami told her the current situation. The girl listened quietly, feeling some relief upon hearing that Haro was at least stable - before Naami pulled away from her just enough to look down into her face. She could see he was so worried for his battle buddy, and he let his anger shine through, his voice growling as he mentioned how he had threatened people for not getting Haro moved to a proper Med-Bay.

Sorrow and pain squeezed the girl’s heart. Of all the people to be on that cot - it had to be her sweet, sweet Haro. Her little light, in such a dark place.

Slowly, Naami began to recount the story to her of what had happened to them, how they had ended up in this situation. He spoke as if giving a report to an officer, clipped and precise, even as he rubbed his face tiredly, his other hand rubbing her back in a comforting manner. She didn’t interrupt him - but let him continue at his own pace, feeling the emotions that roiled within him. Leshanna could only imagine what it had been like for Naamino - to find himself in that situation, to see their Haro be shot, and do his best to keep the mechanic they both loved alive in the middle of a raging battle.

He had left his crew behind - all in an effort to save Haro’s life. At this, Leshanna cracked. “I should have been there…I should have been there for you two!” She whispered, her voice quivering with emotion as tears welled up and dripped down her cheek. Slowly, she pulled away from Naamino and turned towards Haro on his cot, dropping down so she could slip her hand into his and move a stray lock of black hair out of his face.

“Oh Haro…” she murmured, her voice cracking. “You’re strong…I know you can make it through this. I believe in you. Naami and I are here for you…” She sniffled, and gently stroked Haro's hand, before she whispered the words she felt so deeply in her heart:

"I-I love you..."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

BENEATH THE CANOPY​

He gave Lord Strosius a slow nod before he headed in. He would have to remind himself to thank Lady Madrona for pointing him towards her.

Varin had followed the trail that opened up in the vegetation, leading him to where he hoped his master would be. It had been some time since he had seen her. He even lost track. Weeks? Months? It all blended together with how busy he had been, even when keeping in contact with weekly check-ins over holocalls it just was not the same.

He found his way into a small clearing where kneeling at the base of the tree he saw her.

Lady Revna. His master that he had grown quite fond of, though he would never say it out loud, he truly cared for her. She was the first person he wanted to see after hearing about Brosi.

He slowly walked up toward her, stopping a very short distance, his voice came out quietly.

“It is good to see you again, Lady Revna.”

He gave her a slight bow of his head, a bow of respect and one of close kinship.

He noticed on the ground how mycelium seemed to cling to her robes, and his head tilted.

“Congratulations on your victory.”

He looked back at her, waiting silently for her to speak.

Revna Marr​

 

[Revna Marr]

Direct Tag: Varin Mortifer
Other Tag: Lunaria Talon

​

Revna sensed a rather familiar presence brush against her awareness, long before her Apprentice Varin ever appeared in sight. She didn’t stir from her place, though everything around her told her of his coming, and she withdrew her awareness from Psilophyr in order to interact with the young man whom she hadn’t physically seen in a long time.

“It is good to see you again, Lady Revna.”

Revna opened her blazing eyes and cast a look at him from the corner of her vision. He bowed his head at her, respectfully - knowing full well that she didn’t demand or require such gestures from him, though she appreciated it nonetheless.

“Congratulations on your victory.”

“Apprentice.” Revna replied after a moment of silence, her voice soft but held a touch of warmth to it. “It is good to see you again too, Varin. Come…sit with me.” She gestured to a place beside her much smaller form, compared to his massive stature. The young Sith had grown in many ways since their last physical encounter on Korriban.

So much had happened since then. He spent a good portion of his time amongst the new rising Sith group, known as the Sith Covenant. Much of what she knew about them came from the young man beside her.

Revna sat up from her somewhat hunched posture and inhaled deeply, folding her hands in her lap, waiting for Varin to seat himself before she addressed him again.

“It was a victory hard won. The Imperials fought hard this time - came more prepared than the last time they tried to take Brosi from us. They still underestimated our willingness to set aside differences and fight shoulder to shoulder - and they paid for it dearly.”

There was another brief pause before she turned her head to gaze at the young man, taking in the sight of him for a moment, before addressing something that had crossed her mind. “...You were not here this time. I did not sense you amongst the others when the battle raged. What business kept you away from the war front, Apprentice?”

 

[Haro Aven]

​

LOCATION: OUTER RIM TERRITORIES > SITH HOLY WORLDS > BROSI > FIELD MEDIC STATION​

TIMESTAMP: AFTERMATH OF THE SECOND INVASION OF BROSI​

TAGS: Leshanna Dromar | Naamino Zuukamano ​

The pandemonium of war had long faded from Haro's awareness. He didn't remember arriving at the medical tent. His entire world had been a blur of excruciating pain and the frantic movement of those trying to save him as he faded in and out of consciousness. Now, he lay in a light artificial slumber, patched together and stabilized, clinging to life. In the dreamscape of his mind, he drifted in darkness until he heard voices. Familiar voices, voices that made his heart ache. So close, as if they were just on the other side of a door. He focused on them, pulling himself from the heavy fog his exhaustion and back into the waking world.
​

"I-I love you..."​

Haro squeezed Leshanna's hand weakly, then his eyes fluttered open. The green of his irises, usually so vibrant and twinkling like kyber crystals, were a dull and sickly and dark bags bruised the ghostly pale skin beneath them.

"Lesh..." He rasped her name as if she was the sweetest dream, a soft smile on his dry lips. Then he noticed her tears and he winced. He lifted his hand to gently cup her face and brush a trembling thumb across her damp cheek.

Haro's gaze lifted to find Naami looming nearby and his eyes nearly swelled with tears. Words could not begin to express the profound gratitude and adoration he felt waking to find them both here with him, both alive and well, to feel their love after such a hellish ordeal.

"Hey..." he said to Naami, giving him a look that conveyed so much more than just the one silly word.​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

BENEATH THE CANOPY​

Varin sat beside her on his knees, back straight, similar to his prayer or meditation position. He sat there quietly as she spoke, envisioning the battle that happened in this very area and the casualties that must have taken place.

Then her question.

What business kept him away?

He was silent for a moment. To him he had no excuse. He was supposed to be here to be at his master's side. His gaze glared a bit as the molten eye glowed ever so slightly.

“We took Coruscant, I was commanding troops in the battle with the Galactic Empire. In the end, they crumbled. I took one of their Star Destroyers and turned it against them.”

He took a deep breath.

"Since then I had been watching after the construction of the new temple. We used the surviving troops of the Galactic Empire for labor, since they had been under my charge my time has been…occupied.”

His fingers gripped at the armor over his knees.

“Word did not get to me of Brosi until recently. So I came as soon as I could.”

He looked over at his master, a hint of shame within him.

“I had failed in aiding you Master. The punishment is mine to bear.”

He fell quiet as he stared at the tree before them.

Revna Marr​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Tags: Madrona A’Mia / Lina Ovmar
--------------------------------------------

A small smile bloomed onto His hidden features at the Neti's assent to His request, however it was tempered by His critical gaze picking apart the sluggish nature that she sported. Darth Strosius couldn't recall ever seeing her so unlively and lacking her usual boisterous demeanor. A facet of hers that He had silently envied on more than one occasion but which at present He wished she still possessed rather than the slumped and somewhat haggard visage she held now.

Poor A'Mia was still wishing to make a public appearance in spite of the great toll that the battle and the subsequent recovery of the world itself afterward had taken on her. An admirable, if frustrating, display. Clearly she needed more rest than she would get here, although of course Darth Strosius would be more than inclined to warding off any further approaches from bothering the Neti if she wound up dozing where she sat now. He doubted Lina would mind all that much either.

Thankfully it seemed as though her own fatigue had finally cropped up fully into the forefront of her mind, given her request to leave the celebration behind. Albeit with the pair of them in tow. Darth Strosius shared a glance with Lina, her eyes more expressive than His dark visor but a similar sentiment was present all the same. That the Imperials were in dire need of a reprisal, and a bloody one at that. Yet at the same time, their present concern was of course A'Mia herself.

"Tu byloti nuo nun vi duobe', nuyak mielis?" He teased before He rose, balancing the tray on one hand and offering the other to the pair. There was no sense in leaving the perfectly good snacks behind after all, the servers could always bring more for the rest of the patrons later if they hadn't already. "Nu'm vyktimas temias su mus. Sekleti mes?"

 

[Revna Marr]

Direct Tag: Varin Mortifer
​

Revna did not demand that Varin answer her question - she knew he would, when he was ready to. She also knew he would be honest and forthcoming with her, as that was simply how he had been raised, and also since he knew that she expected that of him.

Or at least, if he was going to lie to her, to ensure that his tracks were covered and she didn’t discover the truth otherwise. He should at least be smart with his deceptions if he was committed to going through with them. She wasn’t a fool to believe that her own Apprentice would always be truthful with her.

She certainly wasn’t with her own Master, afterall.

Her veiled demand was a poke, a prod, a test - to see whether or not her student would commit to such a pathway. Or if he would throw himself into her mercy, in a manner of speaking.

His missing eye, or rather, the gem that was the heart of it now, glowed brighter with some inner emotion that churned away within him. Revna did not speak, and her expressions did not shift, except for the subtle tilt of her head to the left as she watched him with expectation.

Finally, he responded. At first, he gave her a report - excuses as to why, without admitting the truth - or the lie - immediately.

Truth be told, what he told her now, pleased her immensely. He had been a part of the battle that ensured that the Heart of the Galaxy had once again fallen into Sith hands and possession, and had come at the defeat of the pretenders and their failed ‘sith’ari’. And Varin was doing his own part to ensure that Coruscant stayed in Sith possession, and had even overseen construction of the new Sith temple there. Remnants of the Galactic Empire’s troops being used for labor, under his charge.

She noticed how his fingers gripped the armor bits above his knees, subtle gestures that told her he was wrestling with himself within his own mind.

“Word did not get to me of Brosi until recently. So I came as soon as I could.” he said, looking over at her. Down at her, more correctly - though she never felt intimidated by the differences in their height. As much as he had grown physically and with his own power and abilities - she was confident that she could still humble him in quick fashion, should it be required.

“I had failed in aiding you Master. The punishment is mine to bear.”

Revna let the moment sit just a little longer - purposefully, before she reached out to lay a small hand against the forearm nearest to her. The touch was light, and lasted only a moment, but would be grounding.

“Be at ease, Varin. I am not displeased with you. Quite the contrary, actually.” She let the moment breathe, let him relax and find truth in her words, before she continued. “The outcome of the battle would not have changed if you had been here or not. The Sith still hold the Holy Worlds, and though the Imperials have tried to fracture and weaken us - they have failed spectacularly, again.”

She turned her attention towards him and gave him a small smirk. “I am just sad that you missed the fun! I am sure you would have enjoyed caving in Imperial skulls… Or turning them into decorations for this lively party…”

Warmth flickered into her ember eyes…or was it a reflection of the lanterns above their heads? “Your aid in conquering the Core pleases me. Continue your work amongst the Covenant; I am in the process of making an alliance with one of your Warlords. Having you there benefits not just yourself, but me as well.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Revna spied a servant approach with a tray of drinks, who hesitated upon seeing the two Sith in close conversation. She sensed their hesitation, and she waved them over to take what was offered, handing Varin a mug of something, and taking one for herself.

“Tell me, what else has been going on? I hear whispers that you have a woman accompanying you now, is this true?”

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

​

Brosi
Objective 3
Tags: Darth Strosius | Lina Ovmar

Tired as she was, A'Mia grinned when Lina answered for both Alisteri and herself. That was the same mischief she so enjoyed and felt kinship toward, but what was even more unexpected was how Alisteri seemed to have genuine mirth in responding. Warmth bloomed within her unbidden and all at once the woman felt even more in need of a quiet place to doff her complicated ceremonial robes, rid herself of the grime of war and get cozy with her companions.

A'Mia straightened up more fully and took Alisteri's offered hand, pulling Lina gently with her as she stood.

"We needn't walk far," the neti assured them as much as herself.

As the celebrations and post battle contemplations continued on around them, A'Mia guided them to the nearest massive root of the world tree. With a trick that the Prophet at witnessed once before, the arboreal woman pulled them both into tree striding with her.

The scent of sharp pine filled their nostrils and it might feel as if grass flattened beneath their feet, a distant whisper of wind rustled leaves greeted their ears and the sensation of radiant sunlight upon the skin of their faces temporarily blinded them. All at once, they'd stepped from a bustling gathering to a quiet roost. The expansive room appeared to exist within the trunk and bough of a massive tree. Not so large as the world tree but impressive all the same. The room had a very open floor plan and was sparsely but comfortably furnished to one end where great windows provided an impressive view out upon one of Brosi's many dense jungles. Behind them, a spiral staircase which looked as if it had been grown into the tree led downward to the lower levels.

"Tuti muryasa, shasona kaj dzu shahkû. Nu tqi warji dzis wir rososûtia diâ ntirmi, diâ ridasizi ja'wi ri sûrsrizra iw kinima'ija minjio wodichu."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin’s body remained tense as they sat in a moment of silence, he was ready to take his penance for not helping, in his eye he would have seen it as abandoning the order. He took quiet measured breaths as he waited for her to speak, to point her punishment to him.

But it never came.

At the sound of her speaking his gaze slowly tracked back to her, when stating she was pleased his body eased, loosening back to a more relaxed state, though still rigid with discipline.

“The courtyard of the new temple is already littered with imperial trooper’s corpses, crucified, and left as examples for the other POWs.”

His head tilted at her request.

Warlords? Which one?

The thought burrowed into his head as the servant brought drinks over, Lady Revna passing Varin a mug of something cold and pressing it into his hand. He took a slow sip as the taste of something strong, sweet and tart coated his tongue.

“Mead. I see the Second Legion has brought some beverages. I had also been working with Lord Lechner in his Second Legion from time to time.”

He took another slow measured sip and gently held the cup in his lap.

Then her next question. One that caused Varin’s grip to tighten slightly around his mug. It wasn’t that she asked him about her, he was selfish for her in some ways. What he truly believed he had for himself, something that he could keep in private was now brought to light. His gaze sharpened slightly as he sat in silence for a moment.

When he did finally speak, his voice was low and deep. It was not that he wanted to lie, it was something he was not ready to share with many just yet. It was easier that way to just get away for a time.

“A study partner, Master. No one of consequence.”

He slowly pulled the ug back to his lips taking another small sip.

Revna Marr​

 

[Revna Marr]

Direct Tag: Varin Mortifer
​

“The courtyard of the new temple is already littered with imperial trooper’s corpses, crucified, and left as examples for the other POWs.”

“Good. Especially if they are from the Galactic Empire.” she spat the word as if it was a disgusting thing in her mouth - which it was. “What a farce.”

Once the drinks were in their hands, Revna watched as Varin took a sip of his and commented that it was mead - probably from the Second Legion’s stock. He also mentioned how he had been working with Lord Lechner a bit more, and she smiled once more at this.

“He is a wise man and even I look to him for inspiration on what a leader of the Sith should be. Him and Lady Talon both.” She partially leaned sideways towards Varin, in an almost conspiratorial way. “Don’t tell Lord Strosius I said that. He would pop a vein if he knew I am fond of our Empress. And lecture me some more and probably try to ground me to some Force forsaken chamber aboard one of His flagships.”

The small Sith woman brought her mug to her lips and took a drink, enjoying the tart mead as it flowed over her tongue. “Hmm. This is some good chit.”

When the conversation rolled to her question in regards to the woman she’d heard whispers about, Varin clammed up and she could practically feel the tension tightening his body. It made her eyes glimmer with wicked mirth as a half smirk tugged her lips to one side.

“A study partner, Master. No one of consequence.”

Oh, now that seemed like a bit of a touchy subject for her Apprentice.

“Oh…really? A study partner…” The look she gave him next told him that she was not fooled by his answer. “Well I do hope you two are learning much together.” She said lightly as she took another drink of the mead, before she gave a word of wisdom and caution for the young man. “Your tension betrays you, Varin. I suggest you practice self control of your emotions with your study partner a bit more, learn to school yourself so you are harder to read. It just might save your life, or the lives of your allies, one day.”

With that, she left the subject be. If he wished to tell her more, he would. Truth be told, if Revna wanted to learn more, learning everything - she easily could. Varin didn’t need to know that, however. She, as his Master, did need to keep some of her secrets to herself. If only to keep him on his toes, and wondering just what all she knew…or didn’t.

“Have you been back by Korriban lately?” She inquired after a long moment of silence so her words to him could sink in, before changing the subject entirely.

 

[Lunaria Talon]

Tag: Revna Marr | Varin Mortifer
__
_______​

By some stroke of luck or perhaps tragedy...Lunaria had managed to mostly avoid her mother.

The slender girl could feel wrath and disapproval rolling through the Force in ways that made her both jittery and filled with varying levels of unease. She had flirted with disobeying the rules in the past when Matteo Guo-Yian had given her the courage to do so, but mostly, it was small things. Little stunts at the Academy on Jutrand…It didn't amount to much when some of their lessons involved assassins trying to kill them. Survival was all there was…

But this was different.

She had never felt Srina Talon exude such emotion, especially when the wintry woman called the Staff of Ascension from her without so much as a word. Lunaria wanted to fight it. It belonged to her father, not her mother, and she had just as much right to the power it offered as any other member of the family. Would she have let Soldane Talon have it, or Quinn Varanin were the circumstances different?

Maybe.

Probably.

Quinn always got everything she wanted (it was the default setting), and Soldane was seriously convincing when he needed to be. Lunaria loved them both dearly, but in the moment, she just felt like the awkward duckling that was typically the odd one out. Her elder sister was a REAL princess, actually, the Queen of their entire homeworld (cool), and Soldane (beastly, brat) was their father's son. Powerful…

But absent.

Where did that leave her? Why didn't her mother understand?

This line of thinking led her to walk beneath the slowly greening leaves of Brosi while her thoughts ran wild as the wind. Matteo would be looking for her, no doubt, but she needed a little time to think things through. To try to find some measure of understanding about why they couldn't just break the glass. Darth Empyrean was…Gone. Wasn't he?

The biggest threat to herself and her twin brother was nowhere to be found. No one had heard so much as a peep from perhaps, the scariest, most hate-filled Emperor the Sith Order would ever know. What was the point? Would she have to hide forever?

Softly…She sighed. Kicked at a small rock.

At least they were alive…

At least—Lunaria had helped pay her debt to the Hordemother Madrona A’Mia and Psilofyr.

She might have continued to take her walk were it not for the fact that she caught sight of Lady Revna Marr speaking to a man whose face she couldn't initially see. Lunaria watched for a long moment, mostly observing the pale beauty of the woman who, unfortunately, probably knew too much. The white-haired, newly minted graduate couldn't say that Lady Marr knew her identity for certain, but there had been much layered between them when she offered her aid. Barriers, withdrawn.

Luna bit her lower lip and looked at the ground for a long moment.

What had she done?

Haru had warned her that they wouldn't be able to hide much longer. That…There were moments when she seemed to mirror her mother physically far more than what distant genetic similarities of Echani might allow. Daughters grew to be almost identical to their mothers, as their mothers had, and their mothers before them. Her Arkanian heritage hadn't done anything to dissuade this process. It wouldn't be long…But her heart seized at the thought of being so exposed. She wanted to be free…More than anything.

But freedom came with a price.

Slowly, carefully, she made her way toward the pair and pretended to be very interested in her surroundings. The molten eye of Varin Mortifer was startling, but she kept her expression neutral enough. She hoped. He was just about as handsome as Lady Marr was pretty. Like something from a book of gloomy, beautiful poetry. Full of black roses and proverbial fangs in the dark. Luna locked her hands behind her back, white hair braided back in one, long rope with silken tendrils framing a youthful face. She didn't want to interrupt but…

She had to know.

Did Revna Marr know who she was?

 

[Srina Talon]

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

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Finally, finally…Some of the blood, grime, and Force only knew what had been washed from her hair. There had been so much that the usually pristine
shade of pure ivory seemed to be stained pink at the ends. The violence and brutality that had ensued in the wake of "Imperial Aggression" was not a surprise. It was not new.

It was annoying.

It was presumptive and touched with the stench of snot-nosed idiocy that lacked all sense. Few things stirred the Sith Order more swiftly than the call of war, and in the wake of what equated to a massacre, with dead Imperial fodder left behind by the thousands…

Srina knew without a doubt that they had learned nothing.

Her mood was hard to discern while many members of the Order moved in almost joyous circles. They were uplifted with victory—But Srina, was left preparing for their next course of action. Her teeth snapped down on a piece of fibrous vegetable that was mostly water in an almost aggressive way. There was plenty of food at the gathering places, but she had chosen lighter options, simply, to fulfil dietary needs…But also—

Because this crisp, green stalk was the only thing that took the taste of blood out of her mouth.

She was sitting on newly grown grass with one of Psilofyr's large, risen roots wrapping partially around her. There had been many silent conversations with the forest-child that she had helped protect and bring into existence. Explanations. Apologies. The former seedling kept her secrets, still, winding around her wrists and ankles when he thought she wasn't looking. Never too tight…Just there. "You should eat something…"

The wintry statement was meant for Mercy , who had joined her at this distant place, unasked, but not unwanted. There was a platter of spicy nuna wings and assorted fried things between them that was the opposite of what the Empress had chosen for herself. Where she had a thermos full of piping hot tea, scalding, she had procured mead for the massive warrior. They were different in every way. Mercy was loud and brash…Srina was quiet and precise.

They shouldn't have worked in any way.

But they did.

Srina had made her rounds. Her daughters were safe, and the Dark Councilors were monitoring any further incursions while alchemists were inspecting the Black Wall for signs of erosion and further damage. The Staff of Ascension, Kala'anda, had returned to her call like an old and murderous friend. Matteo Guo-Yian and Lunaria Talon had a lot of explaining to do, but she cared for them enough to bury her immediate response to the sight of this particular weapon in the hands of her youngest daughter. She couldn't have known how it was forged…

But she knew, very well, that it could have killed her.

It exposed her.

Which in turn left Srina incredibly moody for a monarch that had just successfully repelled an incursion from enemy combatants. At least, she hadn't died this time. Mercurial eyes of burnished gold watched the sky where Vaelcryx and Small Lady were play-fighting through the afternoon and into the evening. Her drake had healed remarkably well since being near the Wellspring while keeping an eye on her idiot child. For that small boon...

She was grateful.

War was never pretty, never fair, and she had grown used to having things taken from her for the sake of the nation she governed. It wasn't a bitter note but a simple acceptance that revolved around fact. For every meter of ground she gained, there was something else she couldn't see slipping away. Be that one of her children—Or something that would cut into her being, bleed her, so that the Order might prosper.

There would be another loud crunch, followed by silence. More…Silence. She was surprised that Mercy stayed around when she was obviously, literally, the least entertaining person on the planet. Her armor was hidden back in a thin gauntlet, and her clothing was…Plain. Hues of black, gray, and silver that made her seem like some kind of spirit, a feyling, rather than the monster she actually was. Her feet were bare—Shoes at her side. Distantly…She could hear music. People talking. Laughing?

It felt as if she were looking at this Empire through frosted glass…Different. As if she couldn't quite focus on what was there because the haze of war kept her in a constant state of alertness. She couldn't unwind. She couldn't stop. Her weapons were never, ever, fully put away because she was the weapon. The Echani could do many things…

But she could not leave herself behind.

It was the way of it. Expected. The galaxy would say she had done horrible things on the battlefield.

She had.

And…She would do it again.

And again.

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

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin did not say anything to her at first. She had called his bluff, Varin was many things but he was not a liar. Not only was he terrible at it, he found speaking blunt honest truth hit harder than dancing around it. But that did not mean he was willing to share everything in detail of himself, his relationship with Seren was still developing. He simply was not ready to speak about it yet.

“ Mercy had told me the same thing. I am also accommodating for two sets of each emotion. It becomes…difficult to bear.”

Her next question made him think for a bit. Time had been muddled and jumbled for him, he thought back to the last time he had been at the temple, possibly weeks ago, definitely less than a month though. He still had upkeep to do.

“Not for the past couple of weeks. One of my last visits ended up getting messy.”

His eye itched for a split moment as he remembered the night he lost it in the cold depths of the temple, exploring its caverns and tomes.

His eye flared briefly as a new stranger seemed to slowly approach, though she seemed to try to remain inconspicuous, Varin had his suspicions that she may be here either for curiosity’s sake or to speak with one of them, he did not recognize her, so he assumed it may be for Revna if she wished to speak with someone. He was not someone of consequence so it would not make sense for someone to approach him.

His gaze flicked toward her, his dark brown eye now meeting with her.

“Good evening.”

He spoke softly, almost invitingly. His eye measured her force imprint, piercing through any possible illusory disguises. Though it was not something he did on purpose.

He slowly brought his cup back up to take another sip, taking in the warmth in his chest.

Lunaria Talon | Revna Marr​

 

[Revna Marr]

Tags: Varin Mortifer // Lunaria Talon ​

Revna hummed softly when Varin told her that Mercy had told him something similar; in a quiet way, hearing that actually made Revna feel good inside. Good that her insights and her wisdom were being echoed by others she considered far more experienced and powerful than she was. It told her that she was at least going in the right direction, when it came to giving guidance to others. It certainly was a confidence boost for her - though she made no gesture or indication to show this was the case.

To her inquiry on if he’d been back to Korriban recently, the young man admitted it had been some weeks, and hinted that his last venture there had been a messy affair.

She was about to continue, when another presence brushed against her awareness - even before Varin noticed them. It was the pale haired young woman whom she had helped in holding up the ritual dome that had protected the Great Tree in the heat of the battle - just before the Imperials broke and retreated a second time.

She was trying not to be noticed, but Revna was not so easily fooled.

Varin was respectful, saying “Good evening” to the young lady. Revna turned her burning gaze towards the other girl, eyes piercing - but not in a sharp or cruel way. Just weighing the situation, and making an internal judgment call. If this girl was who she thought she was - then the less that people knew, the better. Especially anyone connected to her who had connections to Darth Strosius. The raven haired woman turned her attention to her Apprentice for the moment, and caught his gaze, even as he took a sip of his mead.

“I will speak with you later, Apprentice.”

It was a dismissal of his presence, for the moment anyway - but it was a necessary, precautionary move on her part. Revna would say nothing more until Varin left the area entirely, before she turned her gaze to the silver haired, alabaster youth, who was standing a short distance away - her hands pulled behind her back.

Revna’s expression was neutral - schooled to be smooth and not give anything away she didn’t want to. She studied the girl for a moment, before there was a subtle shift in the energy of the Force around them. The faintest of shimmers as Revna erected a protective, invisible bubble around just the pair of them. No one would be able to hear what was said in this place now. Another precaution….just in case.

Revna then gestured for her to approach closer, a soft and small smile forming on her kohl dabbed lips. “I can tell you have something you wish to get off your shoulders, young lady. Come…sit with me, if you wish.”