D O M I N U S
The Abyss had become a second home.
In the beginning, the primordial darkness had been a source of intimidation. The realm was one Darth Metus trespassed when his understanding was quite...limited. Though his will dominated so many stars, he still had so much to learn about the nature of the universe. The mundane realm liked to keep things simple on paper. Light vs. Dark. Good vs. Evil. Red vs. Blue. Yet in reality, things were always so much more complicated. There was never a Jedi who was completely without Sin. And there was never a Sith completely devoid of some semblance of morality.
So it was that Darth Metus, over many years, came to understand the darkness. Most importantly, he came to understand the one who called these depths home. This understanding led to many things - joy being chief among them. After a while, the flames of ambition were enough to blind any man to things like happiness. If one wasn't building towards something, there was an itch to find stones to erect. That was literally Darth Metus' life story. Running from one great work to the next. He claimed that the Dark Side freed him, but he was shackled to ambition.
Now, he had learned to be content.
He learned the value in waking up without worry if a dagger would be plunged into his spine. He learned to enjoy the moments before dawn, where he could simply chat the hours away. He learned to, frankly, love. That was a tricky thing, love. For he thought he understood what it was long before, but like the primordial darkness, he truly hadn't a clue. The man understood infatuation. He understood the sort of loyalty that was beaten into Mandalorian children from the moment they were born. But love? Oh that was an entirely different beast.
Now, so many years removed from the inferno of ambition turning to embers, Darth Metus arose within the primordial black.
Everything around him was a sea of swirling black. What was solid to the touch appeared to be made of glass. From the sheets he left behind to the furniture that made up their room. This was simply the way she willed the realm to appear. And he, having no talent for interior design, rolled with it. If left to his own devices, everything would be very Mandalorian-gray with a few splashes of Sith red. Maybe some Confederate purple for old time's sake. No, such things were better left to the one who had a talent for aesthetic.
Turning, the Sith offered a smile to his slumbering partner. Well, "slumbering" more like. Though her form rose and fell, appearing to yet be within the embrace of dreams, Darth Metus knew better. Elyria slept with ten thousand eyes open, after all. "Good morning sunshine." came his greeting. His voice was gruff - a testament to the lack of caf in his system. "I think I've rested plenty. Shall we...check up on the world?" His amber eyes danced with amusement...and perhaps, just a little bit of ambition.
Just a smidge.
