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Scherezade deWinter

Scherezade deWinter

Member Since 20 Jan 2018
Online Last Active Today, 03:48 PM
*****

In Topic: Outer Rim Mercenaries

Today, 08:25 AM

Valdus Bral The image restriction rule has been lifted. I apologize for wasting your time. The sub is fine and is pending secondary approval. You are of course free to use it in the meantime :)


In Topic: Draemidus Prime

Today, 06:08 AM

Tathra Khaeus Under review


In Topic: The White Rabbit [Bounty Thread]

Today, 05:49 AM

Citadel

 

Scherezade was standing in the halls of the Citadel. No one here knew it was her; for all they knew, the woman standing there was Madalena Antares, Pathfinder of the Knights Obsidian. Her body was clad in the armor of the Knights; a rare occurrence, considering even Madalena hardly ever bothered to wear it outside of specific ceremony events. The green armor that Scherezade had was often a best fit for anything combat related.

 

Was she here for combat though? Her fingers closed around the little chip that was in her hands. The Chip of Truth, as she had attempted to call it. Plugging it into the Confederate datafiles would restore most of the truth; truth that Scherezade had gone through lengths with to conceal, hide, cover, and replace with falsified information regarding her existence. It was supposed to be a permanent thing; as far as she knew, no one had caught that the information had changed, made to look as though it had always been as it was.

 

But something had drawn her to create a fix. Certainly, the fix would not restore everything. Scherezade had no interest in her home planet's name being on file, nor the fact that she had spent seven hundred years trapped inside a pebble. Those were things that had happened prior to her joining the Confederacy and while she would not mind telling the VIcelord, but the rest had to remain concealed. It was no one's business, in short.

 

Forcefully, she made one foot step ahead of the other as she made her way towards the offices. It was time. She would deal with the fallout of what had happened. It had been her choice, her actions, her pulling threads to make this happen. Now it was time to fix it.

 

And yet as she walked through the halls, she caught the sight of Srina Talon in the distance. Emotionless as always. Uppity as always. Did the exarch dislike Madalena as she had disliked Scherezade? She didn't know. Scherezade wasn't even sure she wanted to know.

 

Perhaps now was not the best time for it anyway.

 

Scherezade turned on her heel and left as quickly and quietly as she could.


In Topic: Of Fallen Stars | The Confederacy

Today, 05:01 AM

Location: Fountains

Wearing: Dress

Wielding: 5 Czerka knives [concealed under the dress]

Tags: Feel free to join!

 

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For months, Madalena Antares had walked among the Confederacy, with neither her nor others save Daisy knowing who's body that really was. In those months she'd worn the tightest and slinkiest of clothes, causing more than one pair of eyes to jump out of their sockets. Now that Scherezade was back in her own body though, it hadn't matter that most of Madalena's wardrobe had been picked by her; she was uncomfortable wearing those skin tight dresses, some of which outright blocked the airways because of how sharply they pinched at the waist.

 

Which was why she'd chosen the most modest of the dresses in the closet. It was still tight, but not overly so, and while some skin was showing, it still felt somewhat protective, somewhat safe. Thankfully, she still had some of her knives with her. Madalena had taken good care of all of her weapons, even those she had not known why they were important, such as Scherezade's mother's lightwhip. And with the knives carefully concealed below her dress, there was some comfort that Scherezade could cling to.

 

She had every intention of coming clean soon. She'd almost marched straight to the Citadel once she'd healed from the process, but something had held her back. Well, not something. She knew exactly what.

 

People looked at her differently. Sure, they thought she was Madalena, did not know she was Scherezade. But the way they looked… Scherezade had never experienced that before. There were no mocking looks, no giggles behind her back. People looked at her with respect. Or at bare minimum, a small amount of appreciation. No one seemed to roll their eyes and give off the impression that they would be happier if she wasn't there. A bunch of people even smiled at her, and not in a condescending way.

 

Scherezade had done her best to emulate Madalena's warm smiles, respond to them and not let it know that her body was hers again, that it was her. These were stolen moments, she knew. All this would end the day she walked into the Vicelord's office and told him what she had done, how she had found the way into the Confederate database and changed things around to support what she had put in place, gave him the small chip that would turn almost everything back to as it used to be with the small exception of keeping her home planet and pebble centuries still concealed.

 

And then there was the whole matter of Cardinal. And while she already knew how she was going to fix things with him, her stomach still turned around and made her want to vomit when she thought about it. He was not going to be happy. He could, potentially, try to kill her once a little thing was completed.

 

Scherezade knew she was on very borrowed time.

 

But she just wanted a little bit of it, just to continue experience this entire new treatment, which she knew would end the moment she opened her mouth to tell the truth. Just a tiny bit more…


In Topic: The Second One

Yesterday, 05:50 PM

She had been walking for so many hours now that she had not even realized she'd gotten further and further away from Theed. Somewhere along the path, she'd passed by the mansion that had been owned by her father so many centuries ago. Part of her had expected it to be overgrown, or maybe even entirely demolished, but it was still standing there, bright and fresh as the day her grandmother had seen it. Madalena had said something about it being taken care of, but Scherezade had hardly seen a reason to pay it much attention. After all, what was she to do with it? She had nothing from her parents, absolutely nothing beyond looks and power, but whereas her parents had the personalities to match and were both loved and respected by those around them as well as an entire planet, Scherezade was… Nothing.

 

Somehow, she had reached the more swampy areas of the area. The humidity was thick, and the Sithling was glad she'd brought a bottle of water with her. The night was blooming, and the only comfort she could find upon this stupid planet were the twinkling stars above. Her face automatically turned to where the Galactic North was – the direction of what was supposed to be her home, supposed to be where she could always return to, but never could. Not after all that had happened. Endelaan was a place for the strong, not a place for the broken. And she was, despite being brought back, still quite broken.

 

Eventually, Scherezade decided it was time for a break. She sat herself down by one of the trees, leaning her back against it. She had no weapons on her save for a single knife, no armor, and still, resting in the wilderness did not seem to deter her in any way, shape, or form. Despite being broken, despite all the trauma she had endured since coming out of the pebble, Scherezade had always been and would always remain a predator. She pitied any animal that would try to turn her into its meal if they were not fast enough to finish the job on the first bite. But perhaps she would welcome the attempt. Try to regain some of her old self by slaying a beast with no advanced tech upon her body.

 

Such were the thoughts that cradled her as she closed her eyes, and permitted herself to drift off into sleep. Perhaps this time, the Darkness would not try to make its way towards her.

 

It was a little later that she woke up startled, the scent of blood harsh in her nose. Jumping to her feet, Scherezade was already ready to kill anyone who thought she would be the next meat. "Give me a sound and give me the night, let me see it all tonight," the words came from her mouth. It was the Night Sight spell that she had constructed over a year ago, one of the very few spells she still made regular use of.

 

Her surroundings turned into shades of purple and violet. Knife clutched in her hand, the Sithling began to follow the scent of the blood.

 

Skal Vanagandr