Vanity Hello? [Zambranos | OS]

[Darth Carnifex]

Oh yes, his gift. A blasting of darkness to invigorate both Kaine, who had been newly revived, and his apprentice Braxus during their scuffle with [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] and [member="Mira Rekali"] on Lujo. Despite being several weeks ago he remembered that confrontation vividly, and he could remember the feelings of elation and cruel satisfaction as he laid Gabriel low and left him to die, crucified against a rough stone slab. He had often found himself utilizing the gift bestowed upon him to crush his enemies across multiple battlefields, crimson lightning exploding from his fingertips to scour entire armies clean of life. Togoria had been the most recent location to be subjugated to his terrible wrath, its capital flattened to the ground and its people enslaved and murdered.

"You know me, [member="Soeht"]. I've never been one to be unappreciative of gifts, and it has come in handy countless times. But have you just come for that, or is there something more?"

[member="Darth Gilda"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Korinna Zambrano"] | [member="Harley"] | [member="Pravus Zambrano"] | [member="Chaddeus Zambrano"]​

 

[Soeht]

Once [member="Darth Vornskr"] gave his answer, Soeht began to slowly approach the throne again. Familiar sparks of crimson lightning arced down Soeht’s right hand. Both Vornskr and [member="Darth Prazutis"] would have the chance to feel the dark side of the Force in motion. Others would certainly have the opportunity to notice it as well.

“A̶re͞ ͜t͘h͢ęr͡e any her҉e ̢y̢ou͡ wo̶ul̨d͘ wis̷h͢ ţo re͝c͢e͡iv̢e ̡t͘h͞e̶ ̧sa̶m͜e ̕g̵i̛f̴t҉?” asked Soeht.

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

A weasel standing up on its hind feet, given height and size and billowy garment, may have resembled the hunched over broad Zambrano and his scheming expression. Eyes lit with awe and a mild form of rapture, his gaze shifted to the architecture of the castle, the inner keep, and the doors to the throne room. Painting the ceiling and columns with his almost child like scrutiny, he continued to wrap soft hand over soft hand. The flick of the nails, polished to a gleam, revealed a certain upkeep that might have surprised the less vigilant of character. But for such honored blood line, he could only assume the Zambranos wouldn't miss just how particular this bastard son truly was.

Dragging the robes behind him, book of sacrifices and rituals and macabre instances of his life held clenched against his breast, he followed the Graug through the building. An echo chamber as it were, the building resonated with the subtle sound of discussion that only grew with each lurching step. "This is lovely...truly lovely." He didn't need to be the strongest force sensitive in the universe to feel the souls trapped within the construction of this place. The smell of iron was thick and soupy, drifting in bloody wafts off obsidian gothic columns. The way the floor looked back at him, when his eyes were sent high upon the arches, only told him of the work that had been put into this place. Not as much dust as he preferred, but it was to be expected.

The Graug escorts didn't so much as respond vocally, unless one considers a growl as a response. Either way, Pravus wrinkled his nose at the utterly rude treatment, only cementing his desire to see how well ink took to dehydrated, yet supple, flayed Graug flesh. Absentmindedly, he withdrew the book to stroke it's binding, reminding himself just how much more lasting flesh could be when put to proper use. Entering the room with the guard, his eyes drifted to those who were present but like all others, his attention would gravitate towards the highest point. The throne. After all, there was no Rose to be seen...yet.

The guards scurried away like the big ants they were, though they kept a noticeable watchful eye upon him. The one who seemed fix on Pravus turned back to give him a glare. Pravus merely smiled and waved before wrapping his hand back around the book. With a quiet expression towards [member="Darth Vornskr"], Pravus stood statuesque and awkwardly. With a slight passage of time, his eyes would linger once more over the construction of the throne room, to the sound of a tapping right foot.

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Soeht"]​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The Throne Room was designed in a similar fashion as the rest of the Zambrano Wing, its design all in a rich, ornate black marble lightly speckled with gold. The first thing one would notice was that in here there were no electronic ceiling lighting, the light came from various designs of braziers, including brazier discs and braziers that hung on black-iron chains from the ceiling. The walls on either side held large tapestries holding symbols of the One Sith, the Panathan Empire but what was more prevalent especially on the wall behind the throne was the tapestry holding the runic symbol of House Zambrano, sitting on a rich deep dark blue tapestry. The fixture of the room at the back wall was perhaps the most captivating piece.


A series of steps led up to a massive ornate throne of black-iron unlike anything ever seen in the citadel. It was very clearly crafted by someone masterfully skilled in magic as well as alchemy out of some unknown material, wicked spikes jutted out from the throne in various places and skulls were impaled on them, prized enemies of the God-King at some point in his career their skulls adorned as trophies. The large high ceiling throne room held eight of the elite royal Crownsguard, a force that could be found in virtually every facet of the Zambrano wing that was their headquarters, four men lined each side of the room perfectly spaced apart.

Flanking either side of the throne were two of the mysterious gargantuan warriors known only as Imperial Sentinels. These maroon robed giants stood head and shoulders taller than any man in the room, almost giant-like in their size. They gripped massive axes in their hands and stood like statues, malicious red eyes burned out of the darkness of their helmets. "I'm not one to to be unappreciative of gifts either, and your unique gift has come in handy consistently." Prazutis agreed with his master. The power of Soeht was truly unique and unlike any other, enhancing ones power in the force. But true to the dark side it came with a price, the empowerment works to corrupt and play with ones mind.

The smell of ozone in the air came before the cackling red lightning that danced on Soehts hand, a familiar sight for Prazutis. The same sight he saw during the heat of battle when the man launched it towards his master, and then he followed. Soeht called upon the dark side of the force and it flocked to his call, drawing itself inside the man who made the offer to anyone in the chamber, Prazutis's eyes immediately looked at their family huddled off to one side and he immediately knew who could use the gift the man was proposing. The Sith Lord nodded "Yes there is actually one, Soeht. Veronica come here." Prazutis replied to Soeht, pointing to his blond haired great niece.

Prazutis looked towards the man dressed in the gaudy robes of a gypsy, clenching a book in his hands as he marveled the large chamber the host of Zambranos stood in. This was the man who shared their blood? He walked towards him "Who are you?"

[member="Darth Gilda"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Korinna Zambrano"] | [member="Harley"] | [member="Pravus Zambrano"] | [member="Chaddeus Zambrano"] | [member="Soeht"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

His dark gaze drifted to the sparks of crimson lightning. Peering over his roman nose, he sneered before turning his view back to the one who acknowledged him. Not the one upon the throne, but close enough for government work.

"Who am I?" The audacity to ask. Though, truthfully, Pravus hadn't introduced himself. So he forgave for the time being. Quite the generous position.

Placing his hand over his chest, he tilted his head forward, though he still stood quite tall over what he assumed was another of the Zambrano's. Given the collection in the throne room, he could only assume the blood line was one of virility and fitness. He was the product of such a line, after all.

"I am Pravus Zambrano. Aspiring bastard, from an uninspiring paterfamilias." He looked towards the throne before turning his view back to [member="Darth Prazutis"]. "Before you ask: I am here in search of a place that will accept my eccentricities." He smiled, an expression filled with sharp teeth, as he drummed long fingers against the face of the book. Which coincidentally had the appearance of a stretched face across it. His fingers rattled somewhere between the bridge of two eyes, forever cemented in an expression of fear.

"I hope this is the place...then?" Raising an eyebrow, he could only expect so much luck. Truthfully, if it wasn't, he merely dreaded trying to get that stupid ship back out of orbit.

[member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Soeht"]​

 

[Emryc]

Blue-eyed-stare centered intently upon [member="Pravus Zambrano"] and his colorful arrival, Veronica barely heard the summons.

"Veronica," her mother gently waved a hand before her face.

She blinked.

"You've been summoned, darling," Tricia directed her daughter's gaze over to [member="Darth Prazutis"], "...go on now." Tricia's voice suddenly lacked its normal collective tone. It wavered over the presumption of unknown that [member="Soeht"] embodied. What gift? What were they going to do to Veronica? The older woman's lips drew thin, attempting a frail smile as the golden-haired Zambrano girl sauntered forward. Tricia's frown persisted despite her efforts. She leaned towards [member="Chaddeus Zambrano"] to utter the words, "Who is that?"

"I get a gift?" Veronica peeped as she neared Prazutis, eyes wide with bated excitement as they turned from her Great Uncle to the unknown masked man he stood before, "What is it?!"