The Ziost Affair [The Primeval][PM for late invite]

[Darth Vazela]

| [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] |

For some reason- perhaps a spur of the moment- Vilox Pazela had decided to show his face at the party. Forgotten, lost, asleep. Some of the words that were associated with the exiled Sith Lord, who had failed to stop the Sith Empire from being destroyed in 837 or the attempt to takeover the One Sith afterwards. Truly, he was a walking miracle. The gank that had ensued on that fateful night was the type of spectacle one might associate with the type of hard core video that is very anti PG.

There also happened to be an individual in the same party, that liked anti PG. Lowering the cowl of his robe, the Dark Master surveyed the room quietly. He spotted Vornskr almost immediately, who was stood conversing with some fat creature. It had been a long time since Pazela had seen a Hutt.

Turning his eyes, he then spotted Keira Ticon. His lip curled at the site of her. It had been his fault in many ways that he had not managed to bring onto his side, to join him in his schemes for a greater, higher purpose for those that practiced the dark side.

As he thought about, Keira had now joined a list that was quite epic. He had failed to gain her as he had failed to gain the likes of Ashin Varanin, Spencer Jacobs or Mikhail Shorn. Names associated with prestige and power that he otherwise lacked; and it was purely down to laziness to the point of narcissism.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Lorelei Darke"]

It was always good to hear the One Sith hadn't increased their usual harassment of planetary officials. Now all they needed to do was exterminate their Vong pets and their record would be all the more cleaner. But that was the last thing on his mind all of a sudden. If her majesty kept eyeballing him like that she could have asked Gerion to call her Juan Julio Ramirez-Rodriguez for all he cared.

"Ane it is, then, my lady." He replied, gesturing to the stationary attendant to bring him something to drink. What was this called? Pregaming? If her majesty Ane wanted to start with a drink before heading to the party proper, he wasn't going to stop her.

"I must say I'm not a terribly imaginative man. You may have to give me an alias as well."

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

"Then what would you say, to a 'god' who loathes his own existence?" The words were practically barked out from behind his mask, incredulous to the ignorant arrogance of his younger kin. "I've lived many times Vornskr, for much longer than you have. I remember a life when I thought as you did... but there is no death for you and I... there is no transcendence. Only the curse to live again and again when others are granted the reprieve to die. We might be killed, or our lives might end, but neither of us have experienced true death. Death as described as living... and then ending indefinitely without consciousness." There was a clear rage oozing out of him, that had been fermenting in sorrow after sorrow throughout the entirety of his existence, a rich wine of turbulent emotions now fixated upon him. His consciousness of his own existence now pouring out in a river of hatred.

"When beings such as you and I, 'die'... we merely live. And to live is such a loathsome existence as to be indescribable. When you've lived as long as I have nephew, let me know if your 'infinite' burning passions have stood the test of time." Spitting the words out, with specially place emphasis on Vornskr's concept of infinite, laced with a heavy disgust. His body motion almost suggested he was about to turn away and leave in revulsion... but something stayed him... brought his dripping rage back inward... absorbing the liquid emotion back in like a rotted sponge. The Hutt not having moved very far froze for a second, and seemed to slump further into his Throne somehow, as the eyes (now crimson) dulled into a translucent grey. Slightly turned away, his Throne corrected his posture to face the Voice once more.

"Until then... merely trust me." The voice came out slow... cold... and unfeeling of emotion... but clearly laced with an intention most insidious. The voice of the Black Prophet deep beneath. Without ulterior motive, it spoke to Vornskr, an unprecedented act.


[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Zinai]

What a strange place.​

Heol was only walking around the land, in search of a place to rest, until he noticed a strange party going on.

He was dragged in. A crowd had been rushing towards the entrance, and shoved Heol around, until he ended up inside the party itself.

Wandering around, he looked around in amazement to the amount of refreshments offered, the amount of powerful auras he could sense, and the cheeriness. He wasn't sure what the occasion was.

Still in his hood, Heol approached the refreshments table, and grabbed a single glass of whatever drink was left on the bowl. It tasted of...high quality liquor. And...fruit..punch?

The combination wasn't bad. It could have been better, yet it wasn't something that Heol should concern himself over. Approaching many different groups, he tended to eavesdrop little, tiny bits of conversations, if they were anything interesting. Three words, maybe even a whole phrase.

Sighing at the huge crowd, he sat down on an empty seat, beside a table filled with nothingness. It wasn't bad that he was always alone, but he did miss company sometimes. Especially his old master, Darth Septor.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

While the Hutt spoke all Vornskr did was smile, a black crooked smile that was spread from ear-to-ear. When he was finished Kaine spoke not to the Hutt, but rather to the oozing blackness that had crept up from within the gargantuan creature to assault the Epicanthix's ears with it's blasphemy. "I have seen the bottomless pits of the abyss, my soul wracked with indescribable agony unlike any I had experienced in my living life. When my spirit slipped from the coil that contained it, I wept endlessly as my soul bled as the demons who inhabited that foul realm exacted their retribution upon me." He paused for a moment, taking a deep drink from the cup at his side before rudely wiping what was left on his lips and chin on the sleeve of his robe. "Mother and Father were there as well, their powers manifested by the cosmic entity that called itself Akala. They descended upon me, revenge for their deaths at my hand so many years ago, and they thought they could force me to bend the knee and grovel at their feet."

His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in anger, "But I am no dog, and in that moment I transcended the pain and destroyed my Father's spirit utterly. Mother was disoriented, and I feasted upon her consciousness to regain my strength." Another drink to calm the burning hate within his belly, but to no avail. "Do not lecture me on this loathsome life bereft of death, I would prefer an endless existence than the blackness of the pit."

[member="Zambrano the Hutt"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

"I care not for your beliefs, thus have them... they are yours." The Black Prophet halted the spewing of his apparent blasphemy, not because there was any real threat of crossing boundaries - after all, he had earned the right to lecture whomever he desired on whatever he desired whenever he desired it - but because he did not acknowledge that Vornskr actually had any true bearing of what he was saying. To him, Kaine still remained as that prepubescent pup he prophesied would later commit patricide. Kaine had hardly seen a glimpse of what experience the Hutt bound spirit had compared to him. Hardly even pubescent in his maturity on the subject of mortality.

"All that is sought... is the trust in our equal powers. Without which, we may impede the other... for all eternity." The serpentine words seemed to spiral through the air in chilling waves... never faster than a slow dying heart beat. The eyes sequestered away behind the stark white bone of his mask began to darken and become equal to the hue of his midnight skin. The presence of the Black Prophet was a force so corrupting, prolonged exposure literally rotted the user to its influence... already, chips of bone seemed to fall like dust at the outer edges of the mask the longer the Voice demanded his eyes.

This was the highest respect that the Prophet could provide, or the closest to it. Respect, was a foreign ideal to one so far removed from the idea that other living things mattered. Even in the things that are loved, respect holds no basis in his assessment of affection.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Boethiah]

"Witches are what you need?" The Primeval had the largest sect of witches in the galaxy, and although they weren't particularly large in comparison to a force order, they had the numbers to spare for this project.

Anja looked to the woman's companion before glancing back at Loxa. "This is an acceptable request, I trust your efforts will succeed." She wasn't so certain on the results, but she trusted Loxa enough to give her the go ahead. Regardless, the Host Lord preferred delegation; she had a tendency towards relying on others and so far Loxa was reliable.

"Is there anything else?" She asked.

[member="Loxa Visl"]

 

[Blackthorne]

Loxa dipped her head in thanks. The relief she felt at this would not show but it was there nevertheless. She'd been operating with the numbers that had remained after the ceremony and while those numbers had been substantial not all of them were witches and not all of them were particularly useful to her endeavors. Many were simple pilgrims, mystified by the oppotunity to commune with the Gods through this new Holy venture.

"There is one other," she replied, "creatures of the Darkside swarm to the valley. Infested the lands and killed many believers they have. This one cannot protect everyone. This one's efforts are needed for the seeds."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Quietus]

"Oh?" Lorelei propped a brow at the man as she chose a seat and settled into it. She considered this, pondering a name befitting of him were he not Gerion. Whether or not she knew of his other aliases was beside the point, their existence mattered little to her.

Blond, she thought, catching a glimpse of her own wheaten curls from the corner of her eye. How strange it was.

A wry smirk fleetingly twisted her lips, "Henry."

[member="Gerion Ardik"]

 

[Boethiah]

"I'll place a detachment of the Wayland garrison under your command," there were already troops on the world--many of them in fact; the world was too close to Mandalorian territory to be left undefended. The Golden Banner had a rather large and commanding presence on Wayland, their troops would be more than enough to help her and her witches stay safe from the dangers.

To an extent, she was somewhat cautious by all that Loxa requested. It wasn't -a lot- in the sense that they'd be running out of resources but it was a lot to ask for in regard to such an obscure project. Yet that is again where trust comes into play. Anja would put that faith into the witch. As long as the results were real, the Primeval would continue supporting this project.

Anja walked over to one of the shelves, eyeing the various works left there ages ago. "I would like to see the progress first hand at some point."

[member="Loxa Visl"]

 

[Catalys Maijora]

It seemed he was interrupting something.

Rather than retorting, or making a further joke, the agent pulled up a seat and sat down. "Not here to interrupt, I just like the sound of company when I relax..." The way he spoke seemed absolutely serious, but then again with a helmet on it wasn't like they could see his facial expressions.

Catalys did however, reply to a comment made by Keira. "Well, you assumed wrong. I guess you're just fun to be around, hard getting to used to you not being in cuffs though." This time he didn't seem so serious.

The Exemplar leaned back in the chair, letting out a yawn which was amplified by his helmet's vocabulator.

[member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Evor"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"You need to learn when you're being spoken to, Logan." As Keira spoke she didn't seem to quite look at the man being spoken to, her words demanding their own sort of attention all the same. The two were far more similar than she would ever admit, from their general attitude to just how they approached situations such as these. It was amazing to see how life could take them in such different directions, bringing them together for a chance meeting much like the one that had begun their acquaintanceship. "I never said that I didn't want to talk to you. If you're so intent on acting that way, I'm sure you can find the way out as well." Whether he liked it or not, she could match him word-for-word.

A part of her assumed Catalys would merely leave after being more or less disregarded by all parties, but she had to remember that his reasons for doing things tended to be just as obscure as her own. That, of course, didn't mean she had to so much as pretend to tolerate the presence of the Primeval agent. "Yours isn't the company I choose to keep. And you should get used to seeing me free, Maijora. I won't be spending any more time around your lot than I choose to." Not that she necessarily hung around the greatest or most exemplary individuals. Connor himself was one of the better influences she'd had in her life. The rest of them were, well. Not much different than those others currently present.

Bringing her cigarette up to her lips she took another drag, exhaling smoke, a slow smile creeping up onto her lips at the question posed by her rather reluctant accompaniment for the night. "To learn. If you're going to fight people like this, you have to learn how to think like and walk among them as if you belong. That's why you Jedi have such a hard time when it comes to battling the dark. You never really experience it for yourselves."

[member="Evor"], [member="Catalys Maijora"], [member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Slade Zambrano"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor shifted his stance and sucked in a breath, but finding it hard from the rising smoke from personal pipes and cigarettes. Flicking between the two in conversation, he felt like a minder, or at least have a pen and paper handy to take notes.

When [member="Keira Ticon"] spooke up, it was again with the lecture, but this was something Connor had to understand. This was her territory now, not his. This wasn't the greens of Voss, this was the bowels of a dark Citadel populated by hulking warmongers like this [member="Kezeroth the Beholder"] and slimy folk like [member="Slade Zambrano"]. Great company.

"Well, thanks for the tip, but don't forget I have a little experience with these monsters, he wafted away more smoke. "And do you mind?"

He plucked the cigarette from her rather inviting lips and stubbed it out with a hiss on his chest plate.

"You want to live a little longer? Cut out the smokes."

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

"Erm.." he grumbled as he grew ever so bord of this party. The only people that kept him from leaving where [member="Connor Harrison"] & [member="Keira Ticon"]. The Epicanthix grinned as he followed Connor to get to his old apprentice. Passing by [member="Connor Harrison"] in a random way he spoke as he pasted him. " At least there not Deathsticks... Hehe." With that he glanced at Keira Ticon.

" I have a good feeling that I'll see you two again, In this form or not." he told them both.
" Connor. It was... good meeting you." he paused as good was not exactly the word he used often. " Though I dont truly know you. Maybe one day I'll get that chance." He smiled showing his teeth as he knew that suggested a fight. Once that was said Kezeroth nodded to them both and paused incase more words were to be said to him. If not he would take his leave.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor jumped a little as the hulking [member="Kezeroth the Beholder"] sauntered past with a quip relating to his stubbed out cigarette. How long had he been there and why hadn't Connor felt his presence? Glancing to [member="Keira Ticon"], looking rather annoyed at his actions, the Jedi returned a self-assured smile to the warrior.

"I'll bring the nibbles."

The way he bore his teeth made Connor's neck hair stand on end.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Lorelei Darke"]

It was well and good that was beside the point, because if people started claiming knowledge of Gerion's personal, Force-sensitive alternate lifestyle, he might have flung himself from a window. This would probably be considered a wonderful turn of events for Gerion's detractors, but as it stood everyone presently on the shuttle would have been just a little bit perturbed by it.

Gerion gave a bemused snort. He had almost expected something with a little more weight to it. "Henry? A bit plain, but I suppose I can settle." He said, teasingly.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

One could only drown out war talk for so long. Hadn't the 'verse been at war or skirmishes at the least for some time? Seemed they were headed in a circular conversation at this point. Judah had drained his alcohol long ago and found himself with no escape in terms if replying to the conversation at hand.


Knowing a way out, Judah fished out his comm. A concerned frown at a message and he typed back rapidly, sending a long message to the person at the other end. It took a moment for the entire exchange to be finished. When he looked back up after putting the comm back into his breast pocket, concern was still etched on his face.


Stepping up, Judah went to [member="Danger Arceneau"] 's side, sliding an arm around her waist. He hoped the woman wasn't going to slap him, there was an illusion he was trying to create towards the others. Gently pulling her close, Judah continued the concerned look.


"Darcy honey, I'm afraid the babysitter sent us a message. Our poor girl has caught a fever and is asking for you...." Judah smiled apologetically to the others. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut it short but its been a pleasure. Hopefully our paths cross once more..."


Breaking from the group, the pair steered off into the crowd.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Judah Dashiell"] certainly had a way with words and just in the nick of time extractions. With a chuckle, Danger would snake her arm along that of the CEO of Salacia Consolidated. From behind her mask, she would dart him a wry grin.

"Well, well well... never thought you had in you to be so quick of wit an tongue." she would tease, green eyes dancing behind the black half mask. The slow amble would draw them away from the crowd, and she gave a slight pat of his arm with her hand.

"Perhaps all for the better." she'd continue, turning her head forward, stare drifting on ahead of them. As they would move, the conversation of the gala would wane until only the faint strains of a melody would drift on by.

 

[Slade Zambrano]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

Stepping out of the bathroom Slades' pupils were as wide as dinner plates and his skin sweaty and clammy, it was safe to say he was moderately stoned in this situation. Everything looked and moved like a daydream, slow motions and traces of light that trailed with each movement. Slightly chuckling the man stumbled through the crowds of people either on the dance floor or besides it in a disorderly manner that showed just how messed up he was. Eventually the stoned Zambrano made it back to the bar and at this point in the drug use faces just seemed to blur into masks of streaking lines and twisting features.

Stumbling again he grabbed a bottle of gin and began to stumble away again leaving behind [member="Keira Ticon"] and her company of merry idiots. Taking had bottle he popped the top and lifted the bottle up not even bothering to put it to his lips but instead just letting the alcohol fall into his mouth. With streaks of gin rolling down his mouth he coughed a bit splattering some of the wasted drink on a rather tall looking Trandoshan who growled and immediately punched him to the ground. Slade hit the ground with a thud and the bottle fell spilling its contents on the floor of the party room.

"Dick move man." He said as blood dribbled down his nose and mixed with the gin spewing on the floor.

In desperation slade began to slurp and suck what alcohol he could from the floor, this was rock bottom alright. Stoned as hell at a fancy party drinking gin from the floor that was mixed with your blood and whatever unmentionables people dragged in from outside.

 

[Claire Organa]

Claire took his arm wearing a design that she hoped would catch the eyes of some, she looked about there was no one here that she knew and she wasn't sure they would know her or her company. She smiled as she set her hand upon Zaiden's arm.

"I hope you know people here, I"m a bit lost" She kept that same smile going as she began to move through the crowds. Claire couldn't help but look at the other dresses, designs, fabrics, and hear the hints of conversation as they walked.

[member="Razor Shot"]

Spoiler

so so sorry I thought I replied to this