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Where there was bliss, misery usually followed closely behind. This misery, she loved company.
"BA-DUN-BA-DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN."
The sun, a mass token of gold, shone through the thin skin of her eyelids. Black lashes offered shadows upon the milk-white visage to skitter to and fro when she blinked away tears. They stole down her cheeks, burning on their journey past her scorched, now crimson crusted lips. Anesia took in a ragged, dry, and sand laced breath. Had it not been for the robes, the Sith would have blistered, the hood having saved most of her face.
A dream was a dream, needle in and out in a smooth succession - the effects sooner boiled to nothing and you awoke. Or...
"BA-DUNNNNNNNN."
"ALL HAIL KING OA, LIGHT-BRINGER, KEEPER OF THE GATES."
It was then she noticed the crowd, somehow dismissing their existence on her own accord moments before. This happened sometimes, when the high was so intertwined with reality. Were they there? The noise came in short bursts, echoing in her sensitive ears. Lucid, vivid colors entranced her and the sounds swallowed whole insider her perked ears. She gathered her inky black robes and stood. Cool violet eyes whipped back and forth.
Confusion echoed in conversation and Anesia found herself listening and following further into the hysterics of others.
This was not her salacious boudoir where she last remembered being. There was no bed, no silken sheets, and no concubines. Perhaps the last is what stirred her mind and caused her to glance more frantically. The fact that what ever this was ruined her night, enraged her and fueled her curiosity. She moved among, with, aside the crowd, letting herself get consumed from within.
Bonnnnng. Bonnnnng.
From under the weight of her hood, Anesia stared up, pools of a deeper violet catching the lights and the presence of a being. It was of a certain awe that he kept her attention, but she refrained from showing it. Interesting...
"On this day, 100,001 BBY..." everything before that was lost. The Sith heard only that.
".....AKALA!"
And a name. This causing a rare occurrence for the Sith. The combination of the two and Anesia quieted from within, holding in a dry breath. "Impossible." A handful in the vicinity agreed, she noticed and took the time to embed these faces into record. She took an exceptional interest in Tyrin. This may have been because everything he was saying seemed to have been plucked from her pool of thought. She said nothing, never keeping an interest on anyone in particular for no more than a handful of seconds. However, this did not mean she was not listening.
From the moment she awoke to present time, she paid little mind to her physical well-being. Normally, cold, smooth skin was slick with sweat causing the garb she wore to stick, inhibiting her to move fluidly. While it caused discomfort, it was not what pushed her to disrobe. Anesia had to be able to move unhindered for survival even though it seemed there were low amounts of aggression surrounding the parade.
The attire resembled that of a dark, deviant master. Leather was wrapped around every curve, from her boots encasing her feet to the corset accenting a thin waist and her ample chest. Finger-less gloves adorned her hands and fleeted up her elbows, while small daggers and metal stars were made to decorate at the wrists. Long, dark waves of hair fell past her shoulders, blanketing her cleavage and mostly bare back. No hilt of any kind was seen, nor were any other weapons apparent on her person.
There struck discord on her face and it shone through her alchemy-inspired eyes. Toying around with the Gates, she repeated, but still confused. What he was insinuating was not possible. Only it was, or they were all in a dream together. Stuck. It lacked the luster of one of her dreams, the terror... the risqué behavior.
Madness.
Moreover, a part of her wanted to find out how it was done. The wanton lady Sith could prove this useful in the future. Her posture then mimicked those around her, those a part of this time. Where were the Gates King Oa spoke of? The question nearly sidetracked her from the rest of the happenings.
These stories of the past were now and as strange as it was, she would follow this dead King to find out why. How. All the while keeping an ear to other chatter. Anesia was but a few paces behind Tyrin, arm-in-arm with a creature of a man to whom they were damned to. His joy was apparent as it was infectious, and there was a sudden desire to empty her stomach on the dais. Obviously, she refrained, but the thought still lurked and at least she knew where she was. Technically. Dathomir was a part of her in many ways, some that she was clearly unaware of.
"Why you?"
Indeed, why her. Nevermind the rest of them. Anesia was more interested in the how, not the why. She suspected that they would find out the latter only after finding out how these turn of events came to be in the first place. The palace obviously held answers, perhaps the Gates even.
Anesia turned to her companion only to find he was not there and the Palace seemed a misstep. Those that seemed as clueless as her stood about in every direction looking more confused than they already were. Their world, but not, had hiccuped again. The only thing she could do was give an exasperated sigh and take in her foreign surroundings for the second time in... she had no idea how long.
Laughter swam through the desert air and her annoyed gaze shifted to where the sound originated. She squinted, mouth still parched, stomach empty. If for nothing more than a drink, Anesia found herself following the laughter. It was not as though the people around her did not exist, the woman was just determined. She thirsted for many things at this time. A child did not simply survive in a desert alone; there was either others that cared for her or she had a place of reprieve from the sun. That place would have water, food...
Trouble no less, but it was worth it.
The child called for her mother. How endearing, how lovely. How right she was.
you guys sure didn't waste any time)
