Private After Party

[Nouqai Veil]

The past two days, Tion and a day at the imperial palace had been stressful. Thankfully, she had been returned to Alvaria by the empress Srina Talon herself to Alvaria along with Darth Strosius . A mission failed... successfully. Still, it had been rather tense with Darth Malum of House Marr , as the Empress explained how the young apprentice had came into her custody. Even if it was a mission failed succesfully, she couldn't shake of the feeling like she had disappointed him once again. A sentiment and tension that hovered since it came to light that she had gotten a device implanted in her head without his knowledge.

Only when she took to a bottle of booze from the cellar to try and mitigate all that anxiety and stress of the events did he come to mind. Through all the stress, her boyfriend Koto Demascón of House Marr had been on the backburner for a while. Despite their relationship, it was rocky and if she were to be honest, more often a cause of anxiety than the occassional comfort. The last thing she had told him was to fight the imperial at Tion. He must have heard the comms that she was compromised at base... she had told him to stay put. Falentra triapsed to his door, her mind slightly befuddled by the alcohol. She knocked.

"H-hey Koto."

 

[Koto Demascón of House Marr]

The everpresent tapping koto produced was likely audible through the door, it was a beacon nearly anywhere he went. The tapping hadn't changed since Nouqai Veil had gone missing in that underwater base after telling him to stay behind, giving him a target to fight. And he did, neither of them dying in the process. Neither of them, in his mind, truly winning or losing in the end. Only Falentra had not returned.

It was a great irritation, and that irritation often rippled off him in the force. The lack of her presence, alongside his lack of killing that imperial, might have spurred on the murderous tendency. Having gone on the attack with some maid. Another failure, but at least blood was spilt that time. Unfortunately, before either could TRULY strike a lasting blow, his mother managed to get them both in stun blasts and separate them.

But she was not dead, no, no instead she was coming back wasn't she. He could hear her. A proper sith may have said 'sense' but that wasn't how it worked for him exactly. He could hear her presence in the force, her footsteps and movements as she approached. If someone saw his face, it would hardly move. But in the force, his differing but strong emotions rippled un-hidden.

Then she knocked, instead of rippling it was more like someone pulled a sheet tight on all ends. "It is open." if she entered, he'd simply be standing, partly turned away from her, looking over his shoulder. As if he was frozen mid stride.

 

[Nouqai Veil]

Even through the door, an object corporeal, she could feel his force signature reaching, much more defined and darker than her own. It had always been with him since she broke him out of decades in carbonite. Falentra pushed the door open, where she saw him, his back partially turned from her, seeming to have been pacing.

It was somewhat a relief to see him again, to know he had returned from the destruction of the underwater base. Falentra strode up to the tall lad, her arms extending to wrap around him in a hug, looking up at him. "I'm sorry I've been gone for a while," For why she felt the need to apologise when it had not been a circumstance she had foreseen, was perhaps just to appease him. Koto Demascón of House Marr

 

[Koto Demascón of House Marr]

He wasn't actually sure where to go with that introduction, but chose to accept the hug, and squeeze her tight for a moment. Ever so briefly smoothing out and loosening the tension. It was, at least, still good that she was back. But his anger was still there, and yet to be properly pronounced. His jaw clenched as the presence of him rippled again, his expressions were usually not visible. Not due to an intentional suppression, but because his mind had become so disconnected from his body in practice.

"You should have let me with you. I could have helped." He insisted accusatorially, his voice a bit louder and colder than usual, "I am a partner, you were in danger and told me to stay behind. Why would you do that to me? What was I supposed to do about it from there? If you were not ready to go in alone why would you go in alone?"

In the right tone, some of those words, though not all, could have sounded truly caring than in the manner he gave them. But they were insistent, and angry, and hurt, less than compassionate. He felt aggrieved for it. That it was some kind of abandonment or intentional failure. Rather than considering the truth

Nouqai Veil