Populate WITCHING HOUR [ ME Populate of Kadavo ]

[Juniper Le Fey]

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Delight and mischief danced across Juniper's eyes in equal measure. Her heavily lined eyes narrowed as the Mandalorian entered, bringing with her energies that felt strangely familiar to the huntress. It wasn't quite magick, but neither did it resemble the presence of a Jedi or Sith. There was something different about it, something that piqued the Witch's curiosity. Faint sparks of magenta flashed behind her pupils, brief enough that only the keenest eyes might notice. Her painted lips curled into a devilish smile, revealing just enough teeth to appear dangerous yet intriguing, like a wild animal sizing up its prey.

"You haven't answered my question."

Her voice came not only from the lips of the woman seated before Xasin Dyst , but from somewhere behind the Mandalorian as well. It echoed through the tent, seeming to come from every direction at once. Not quite threatening, but certainly disorienting. "Are you quite sure you want to know what the future has in store for you?"

Juniper raised her head fully, allowing the hood draped over her head to fall back across her shoulders. Her face caught the light of the fireplace as the flames suddenly swelled, growing from a modest flicker into a roaring fire. The familiar reds and yellows slowly turned to brilliant shades of emerald, bathing the interior of the tent in an otherworldly glow. The smile that had seemed so predatory only moments before softened into something considerably more inviting.

"Please, sit." She extended an arm, her manicured fingers gesturing toward the empty chair opposite her. As her hand moved, the chair slid backward of its own accord, stopping just enough to allow her guest to sit comfortably.

"You know something of magick. I can feel it." Juniper's voice had become more focused now, though its resonance still seemed to settle somewhere deep within the Mandalorian's bones, as though the Witch were speaking directly into her thoughts. "What I do is not so different. I simply use it to seek the truth."

Her hand moved again, this time drawing attention to the Bakurat cards resting upon the table. The scattered deck stirred, individual cards sliding across the wooden surface before gathering into a neat stack. Then, without so much as a touch from their mistress, they rose into the air and began to shuffle themselves, one over another, their movements impossibly precise.

"If you wish, I can show you what you seek." Juniper leaned forward, her eyes never leaving Xasin's. Though the Witch remained seated across the table, her next words seemed to come from somewhere much closer, as though she had leaned over the Mandalorian's shoulder to whisper directly into her ear.

"But I must warn you, darling. Once the spirits have shown you something, you cannot choose to unsee it."

 

[Garo Vevut-Varkor]

​

He think a little before answer "Well, for now I'm looking to see if I find someone to talk...you know I'm not good at it" He sighs frustrated with himself he fold his arms by reflex as he looks around "At the same time I can feel the spirits closer,not The Force,or not just the Force, but thhe ancestors too."

He give a soft smile. "I admit I'm a little sad most of our people forggot our traditions at te same time,I know in the past we and the Dathormirians probably had something shared and we change from each other so" He stop thinking in how to try to explain "I'm here to see how things are different and what still the same."






Veyla Krinn

 

[Torva Verd]

The Witch Fire
Tag: Jaren Kast ​

Torva had never been to Dathomir before. Truth be told, she hadn’t been to a lot of places. But of the few places she had been to, she discovered that none quite left an impression upon her like this place did.

Something about it made the hairs across her body stand on end, and an otherworldly chill creep up her spine. Though she was still learning how to feel the currents of the Force, this place felt different to her somehow. Older, darker, more secretive. Dathomir was as intriguing as it was terrifying. Torva wouldn’t have really come here on her own accord - but she couldn’t deny a request to meet up from Jaren.

He was waiting for her on Dathomir, and thus the redheaded daughter of Mand’alor the Iron found herself stepping foot on its storied surface in search of the man who had stolen her heart.

Quietly, Torva made her way to the location sent to her by Jaren: a gathering of tents spread out across a forest clearing, with large bonfires aglow with emerald hued flames. From what little she understood, Dathomir had invited the Mandalorian Empire to their door, to celebrate a time honored tradition and rekindle an alliance that had once been lost to war.

It didn’t take her long to find the spot he’d mentioned in his message. The green flamed bonfires were not easy to miss, and the smell of various foods being prepared and offered to those gathering made her mouth water. Sapphire blue eyes searched the myriad of bodies and faces, until she spotted a rather familiar figure near a fire not too far from her location.

Jaren.

Seeing him made her smile.

He was looking for her, but he hadn’t spotted her yet.

So Torva decided to practice her stalking skills she’d been learning as a Wolf. She angled herself in such a way to remain out of line of sight, tucked into a blindspot unless Jaren turned directly towards her, and she moved forward towards him with deliberate and silent steps.

When she was within striking range, she slipped into his shadow and lightly touched one hand to draw his focus there, before popping up on his other side without a word or a sound. He would turn back and she would just be standing there, right beside him, as if she’d been there the whole damn time, all while giving him the most innocent smile she possible could conjure up. ​

 

[Leddie Gred]

Objective II
Tags: Ryela Solde

Leddie had admittedly pulled her coat closed as she walked. Ok. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. What happened if she saw something from before she didn’t want to see again, or if she got lost. Or…. It was then she heard someone, turning to see younger hybrid there. She looked surprised by the question, but shrugged.

“Honestly…. I don’t know. Haven’t seen anything yet personally though.” She admitted before looking over, adjusting some jewelry in her horns. “Name’s Leddie.”

 

[Xasin Dyst]

WITCHING HOUR
Stopping at Fortune-teller on the way to Objective II - Dathomir​

Xasin's emerald eyes followed the chair as it slid across the floor seemingly of its own accord. One eyebrow rose, and she glanced toward the emerald flames dancing where ordinary fire had burned only moments before. The shifting voice had caught her attention as well, though she had resisted the temptation to turn around a second time.

Well, this was certainly different. "You certainly know how to make someone feel welcome," she remarked with an appreciative chuckle. "Back home, we usually just offer someone a chair without making it dance first." There was no mockery in her words. Quite the opposite, in fact. The Mandalorian was genuinely fascinated by the display. She had experienced the Force in countless ways throughout her life, but this was something unfamiliar. Not entirely alien, perhaps, but different enough to make her wonder how much of what she understood was merely one interpretation of something infinitely larger.

Her father had always maintained that the Force was not something to be commanded so much as understood. It existed in the roots beneath their feet, the creatures moving through the forests, and the quiet rhythms of life and death that sustained the natural world. To Xasin, its presence had always felt less like an instrument to be wielded and more like a conversation one needed to learn how to hear.

The woman before her appeared to be having a rather different conversation. "I know something of the Force, if that's what you're sensing," she offered, gesturing vaguely toward herself. "My father taught me what he could. Our clan has always respected the natural world, though only a few of us can actually feel its presence the way I do." Her gaze returned briefly to the floating cards. "Nothing quite like this, though. I suspect he'd have enjoyed seeing it."

Juniper's warning, however, deserved more consideration than her theatrical welcome. Once seen, it could not be unseen. Xasin allowed a moment of silence to settle between them. She had come expecting an entertaining diversion on her way to the labyrinth, perhaps a curious glimpse into Dathomiri customs. Instead, the Witch had presented her with something considerably more serious. Was she prepared to learn something she might wish she hadn't? Perhaps not. But then, being prepared and being willing were two very different things.

"You asked whether I truly want to know what the future holds." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I suppose the answer is that I'm not particularly interested in having my entire life laid out before me. Where would the adventure be in that?" A small smile returned to her lips. "A tree doesn't know when the next storm will come. It simply grows strong enough to weather it. Or it doesn't, and something new grows in its place."

She gave a little shrug. "But knowing a storm might be coming doesn't mean you have to surrender to it, either." With that, Xasin stepped forward and accepted the invitation, settling into the chair opposite Juniper. The weight of her armor made itself known with a faint metallic creak, and she adjusted the position of the hammer across her back before resting her hands comfortably upon her knees.

Her expression remained open and curious, though there was now a measure of seriousness behind her emerald gaze. "So, yes. I think I'd like to hear what your spirits have to say. Even if I don't particularly like the answer."

She glanced toward the tent's entrance, beyond which the path toward the Harvest Labyrinth awaited. "I was heading into that labyrinth before your tent caught my attention. I've heard some rather interesting things about what waits inside." Her gaze returned to the Witch, a playful glimmer returning to her eyes. "So perhaps that's where we should begin. What do the spirits think I ought to understand before I go wandering into a forest full of ghosts?" Xasin leaned back slightly, her smile softening. "I'm listening."

Juniper Le Fey | Open

 

[Ryela Solde]

Objective II: The Harvest Labyrinth
Location: Weald of the West, Dathomir
Tags: Leddie Gred | @OPEN

Ryela turned toward the unfamiliar woman, her crimson eyes briefly settling on the jewelry decorating her horns. That was something she didn't see every day, although she had enough manners not to stare for too long. The woman didn't seem particularly sure about the labyrinth either, which was reassuring in a strange way. At least Rye wasn't the only one wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

"I'm Ryela Solde, but everybody calls me Rye," she introduced herself with a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Leddie!" She glanced toward the winding paths, then back at her. "I haven't seen anything either, but apparently we're supposed to be able to meet spirits in there. I'm not sure how that works, exactly. Do they just appear, or do we have to do something?"

The thought of encountering her mother returned, although Ryela wasn't quite ready to explain that particular curiosity to someone she'd only just met. Instead, she studied the entrance again, trying to decide which path looked most promising.

"Would you want to explore together?" she asked, turning back to Leddie. "I figure two people have a better chance of finding their way out than one. Besides, if something weird happens, at least we'll have someone else around to confirm we're not imagining things." Her grin widened a little. "Unless we both imagine the same thing. Then I guess we're in trouble."

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Objective I: The Witch-Fire
Location: Weald of the West, Dathomir
Tags: Garo Vevut-Varkor

Veyla smiled sympathetically at Garo's admission that he was still struggling to approach strangers. She remembered how reserved he'd been when they first met on Thyferra, although he seemed considerably more comfortable discussing spiritual matters.

"Well, you've managed to talk to me twice now, so I'd say you're making progress," she teased gently. "And I wouldn't worry about finding the perfect words. I'm sure the Witches are just as curious about our traditions as we are about theirs."

His mention of the ancestors intrigued her. Kallous had taught her much about sensing the Force, but distinguishing that presence from the spirits Garo described was beyond her current understanding.

"I can sense something unusual about this place, though I couldn't tell you whether it's the Force or the ancestors you're feeling." She glanced at the emerald flames before turning her attention back to him. "It's a shame we've lost so much of our shared history. Perhaps this is an opportunity to recover some of it."

She gestured toward the nearby tents with an encouraging smile. "Come on, let's find someone to talk to. I promise I won't make you do all the talking."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aselia Verd

This was a stupid idea.

Adelle walked the paths of the labyrinth slowly. She’d come to Dathomir with the other Mandalorians in an attempt to heal old wounds and rebuild old connections. She was, after all, the token Mandalorian diplomat. But she should have ignored the pull she felt in the Force and stayed at the fire, where the lines between the worlds of the living and the dead weren’t so thin. Not even a quarter of the way in and she already heard whispers spoken by no one.

Her hand reached for and found Aselia’s, holding it a little more tightly than normal.

“I’m…” Adelle began, searching for the words. “... starting to regret this decision.”

"Making poor decisions? Surprise, surprise."

The sarcastic response was audible now. Adelle froze, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing on end. Icy dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She knew that voice. Adelle looked back to Aselia, jaw clenched, wondering if she heard it too or if it was just in her head again.

An urge to go back the way they came hit her again, to retreat from this level of Corellia’s nine Hells she opened up. But whether it was a trick of the labyrinth or the Force, or if it was just her own anxiety muddling her head, she couldn’t remember the way back out.

There was only forward.