An enchanted winters evening

[Er'in Tenel]

Dromund Kaas - Kaas City​

Thundersnow swirled around the ice-rimed towers of Kaas, lightning mixing with the sharp edged snow that fell from the dense, eternal clouds above.

Er'in Tenel was rich, but not important, so finding an apartment suitable to her needs - even one she didn't intend to use that much - was a little more difficult than it might be for others. But she'd found one soon enough, a two-level open plan affair of mirrored external glass in one of the cities less... popular districts. The view was impressive, if the ruins of ancient Sith structures that gave normal people nightmares could be considered impressive.

It took a certain type of person to want to live there, and there were not that many Sith who wanted to jockey for such domiciles.

Even fewer Sith decorated the inside of the stark metal exterior with the brilliant, but muted jewelled colours of the Hapes Cluster, a spark of light in the darkness.

She stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, musing quietly over dress choices. How much did she really want to flirt with her guest, as opposed to keep things to business? He was useful and... sort of charming, in an insulting way and he did seem to enjoy the chase. Which she didn't object to, it was less the chase, more the catching.

But she did also want to discuss their actual mututal interests.

Oh. Force take it. She pulled a long red dress that revealed as much skin as it covered and slipped into it. Vanity wins over common sense, again.

"Ishna?" She called, her voice low.


"̆̉̿̎̃̾ͭͦY͑͏ê̴ͩ͌͟s̒͒̄̃͘͏,̃͗̑͋҉ ̷̽ͬ̂̾͒ͧ̐͐mͭ̓̋͌̆̎̐̕͝i̚ś̒̚͏͞͞t̡ͯͧ͜r̢̛͊ͬ͂e̓̈͗̓̃̊́s̵͊͒͞s̷ͧͣ͝?̸̊̉͛ͣ̋ͫ̉"ͮͥͣ͡҉̕ A genderless voice of beautiful, melodic flame that could entrance a devil called from outside, and then the flaming, female-gendered Sithspawn who she'd taken - made - as her majordomo floated into the room, head tilted curiously.

"Our guest will be arriving, would you be so good as to meet them at the door?" Politeness, Er'in had taught, was never wasted, even on demonic Sithspawn servants. Particularly not extremely intelligent ones with nominal free will.

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]​

 

[AMCO]

It was a wonderful sight, the raging storm. No matter how commonplace, he never grew tired of gazing at its raw power, its elegant simplicity. There was something... different, about it. Something more than natural.

Tearing his gaze away from it and back to his opulent, if minimalistic, surroundings, Adrian murmured a request into empty air. "Xesh? I'm not late, am I? You know how distracted I can get."

Emitted from hidden projectors in the walls themselves, the eerie voice of Prime Grek-Xesh could be heard. "Of course not, Creator. I have replicated an outfit based on the relevant variables and charted a route to your destination. I recommend a departure between twenty-seven and twenty-eight minutes from now based on current conditions."

"Good, good. There's time for a quick swim, then. Have my attendants make any necessary preparations." Leaving the office behind, he passed between a pair of armoured sentinels, their reverent salutes and religious devotion earning them little more than a bored glance. Not that it bothered them. The opportunity to serve their Creator, their God, was reward enough.

---​

Walking up to his host's door, he made his presence known, though not before entertaining a brief surge of smugness at the difference between their respective residences' location. He had a Vice Admiral and several fellow Sith living beneath him. She? Not so much. Still, he could hardly expect her to be as well-connected as him, given that she had only recently joined the Empire. He, on the other hand, had spent years cultivating ties to its cultural, economic, military, academic, and above all else political elite.

 

[Er'in Tenel]

The door slid open at the approach of an authorised visitor, revealing the blue and black flame-wreathed form of the hovering Sithspawn, Ishana.

The eyeless gaze did not seem to regard the Sith with any more reverence than it - she - showed their creator, which was to say there was a faint air of polite diffidence masking enigmatic, cold burning fury.

“Welcome.” The melodic tones were hard to suppress, but it was considered impolite to assail guests, it had been taught. Personally, it felt all these notions of behaviour served merely to keep the inner beasts of sentients in check. “Lady Tenel greets you, honoured guest. Please, enter in safety and with no obligation.”

That last sentence was important, it had been told and it understood clearly why - ritual and obligation both had their place.

Er’in descended the steps from the upper level with precisely timed grace - few humans got to witness the final hurry to adjust a dress, slip on shoes or finish makeup. But Er’in was used to live with personal servants that were... not designed for such tasks, and would not give up the freedom of making her own choices over summoning a servant for mere convenience.

“Lord Vandiir!” She paused for effect - and it was quite an effect - letting her pleased greeting sink in before descending the stairs with grace and showmanship, a lifetime of training from birth to royalty letting her move with an assumed formal grace that many took decades to learn. The glittering eyes and web of scars merely made such grace look more Eldritch. “So good to see you. I’m glad you could find the time to take me up on my invitation. Please, come in.”

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]

 

[AMCO]

As was often the case, appearances were deceptive.

In stark contrast to the harsh exterior, the interior was surprisingly bright, its style simultaneously both refined and exotic. He might have paid it more attention, were it not for the being greeting him. Eyes widening, though only slightly, his surprise quickly made way for a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Guest rights, at least in such a ritualistic form, was rare indeed. But he could certainly play along, especially with a being such as this. "I humbly accept her invitation, and in turn promise to bring no harm upon host or household."

While curious about the strange being - Sithspawn, it had to be - before him, his gaze flickered upward when Er'in entered the scene. His gaze flickered upward, and once again he was briefly struck by surprise. Er'in Tenel, when last they had met, had been the definition of beauty. Since then, her body had been marked with what appeared to be a series of occult tattoos, or perhaps scars. To the average person, it would quite possibly be creepy, frightening, or some other version of unpleasant. To Adrian? To Adrian, it was utterly gorgeous.

"Ah, Lady Tenel. Please, the pleasure is all mine." Smiling warmly, he stepped inside, the door shutting behind him. "... and may I say, I adore your new look." Smile widening, his eyes glittered with appreciation. "Of course, it's more than a mere look, no? So much more."

There it was, the last piece of the puzzle. He had felt something, as he approached. It had felt vaguely familiar yet different. Now he knew what, now he knew why. Was this, he wondered, how his own alterations felt to others?

[member="Erin Tenel"]​

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Er'in couldn't help herself, she preened - quite openly and visibly, her smile growing a little wider and she look a moment to pose, then slowly walked down the stairs.

She even threw in a little half turn that looked almost completely natural to show off her back.

Privately, she'd hoped to get this response out of the man. This was... new to her, this level of change. But it felt right in a way she could not quite begin to describe - there was an acceptance to the pain inherent in her self-centered, yet oddly self-less sorcerous style that had been dissonant - as if she had been holding back, touching something... something Light which she knew from her tuition was not the horror or failure the Sith saw it as, but it was dissonant with Sith Sorcery, and to internalise the pain - to become it and live it, had somehow healed her a little.

She felt... cleaner.

Which was ironic, given that to almost every other being in existence, she looked and even felt Dark. But balance is a personal thing, and for the first time in a while her Aing-tii meditation charm had not flown out of her hands and smashed something.

"You're too kind, do continue to flatter me. I love flattery from an equal as much as I despise it from lessers." She purred lightly, a smile on her face. "Can I offer you a drink, I have something new that is absolutely not for mere mundanes. I can entirely vouchsafe it's safety for Force Sensitives with a sense of... decadence, however."

She walked across the flat, as much as to make a further show - it was less seduction (although lets be honest, it was that in the most blatent way) and more pride in one's work. It also drew the eye to the apartment itself, which while unprepossessing from the outside, from the inside was the riot of rainbow colours and beauty one comes to expect from Hapes, with artistically placed patches of darkness around the more obvious Sith elements. It was also full to the brim with Sith Artifacts - mostly mundane, but two or three exceptionally valuable, genuine artifacts - a Jurgoran Stave had pride of place in the entrance area, while a Shadowclasp sat on a pedestal next to a small stack of Naile'ginkas. But beyond that there were holocrons, datacrons - more of the latter than the former, tablets and fragments of ancient writing, all carefully labelled - not quite as in a museum, for the labels were in Er'in's handwriting, and neatly and accurately described their providence. She appears to claim to have found most of them herself, from various worlds across the galaxy.

Which isn't a bad haul at all for two or three years as a Sith, this must literally be her life's work until now.

She collected a small bottle of silver liquid that shimmered like a mirror and radiated alchemy, along with two small, slender glasses of Hapan make - they looked as if her touch should fracture them.

As she did so, she answered his question. "I discovered much in the conflict, from the Emperor's purpose for his Empire, to my own... place in that, or perhaps you might say my own talents, or my philosophy reached the next stage of it's evolution." She sounded as thoughtful as she did ostentaously proud. "The Force, after all, can be and is all of those things. But as part of that, I was forced to make my skin part of my work, to accept my Art into my body, as well as to command it through my Will."

She offered Adrian one slender glass, long, sharp nails flickering blue-sliver in the light.

"But if you want to touch, you'll have to play along."

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]
​

 

[AMCO]

Too often, his peers were all too eager to change others, yet not themselves. It was foolish. It was fallacious. Risky experiments were suitable for the expendable, but perfection? Perfection was meant for those that deserved it, and who was more deserving than the mind behind its creation? Perhaps, in this too, he had a peer in the woman. Someone who saw themselves as he did --- a veritable god amongst mortal men, but still flawed.

"By all means, I've never been one to shy away from... new pleasures." While astonishingly honest for a Sith - he could barely remember the last time he had directly lied - he had rarely spoken a phrase more true. It was not that he spent his days in lazy indulgence - his work was too important - but when he oh-so-frequently did take the time to indulge? His parties weren't infamous for their decadence without reason.

Following Er'in's back - and what a back it was - across her flat, he was pleased to see her various collections proudly displayed. The decor was a bit too colourful, for his taste, but the relics? They were truly wonderful, and from the look of it, she had collected quite a few herself. Possibly even made a few. She had, after all, claimed to possess that talent when last they had met. "Quite the collection you have here. Some of these are very intriguing."

Reaching their destination - how much of their short walk had been meant to subtly showcase her collection? - he nodded attentively. In some ways, her story was similar to his own. He too had been changed by the fire of conflict. In his case, it had been far more literal, however. His arm had been chopped off, and cybernetics had ill-suited his sorcery. It was all for the best, really. Maybe he should thank that crazy Jedi bastard, if they ever met again.

Carefully grasping the fragile-looking glass, his smile widened slightly at her comment. Now, who was the space pirate? "It is quite the journey, the realization that one's body is limited... and that those limits can be breached, if the mind is willing. I too, had to be... shook out of the norm. Had to be forced to think in new directions. Conflict, for all its destructiveness, is a uniquely useful crucible for change."

Appearing thoughtful for a few moments, he spoke, his eyes intent.

"I suppose it is up to us to drive that change in the right direction. Our direction."

 

[Er'in Tenel]

“Mmmmm. That is, I believe, what it means to Sith. Order no doubt has it’s place, but I would argue that the betterment of ourselves is the one true loyalty of every Sith.”

Er’in spoke the casual heresy without a care in the world, it was a test of course, to see how he would react. She met his eyes as she spoke, then took a single, suggestive sip of her drink and shivered. The sensation was... divine... the distilled essence of emotion, more specifically, of the passions and fears of the individuals who had suffered - not all had died, only those sentenced to death - of those who she had selected to make it. Distilled essence of passion, each sip was different and reflected the drinkers mood and passions as much as those who had contributed their essence to it. One sip might taste of the sensation of death, the next of joyful daydreams, the next of fear.

Naturally, drinking it was an effort of will - she had originally thought it might serve as a combat drug, and if used correctly, it certainly could do that, given how it heightened the drinkers mood. It was also pure dark side sin, an inadvisable drink for anyone who wasn’t Dark Side, and dangerous enough even then.

Her eyes blinked closed for a long moment as she savoured the taste-sensations within the sip, then smiled slightly.

“The dark side is, by its nature, the change in the world. We must be the change we wish to see in the world, or be consumed by it, no?”

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]​

 

[AMCO]

Ah, there it was. The ever-present conflict between selfishness and a greater cause. A loyal Sith, especially one who belonged to the Saaraishash as he did, should have rebuked such a comment in the strongest sense. Should have.

"Can one truly call oneself Sith, if the pursuit of greatness is abandoned? I would argue not. Someone who merely serves, merely obeys... they can certainly be useful, but a Sith they are not."

Smiling wickedly, he matched her gesture, sipping lightly from the strange substance. His reaction was... immediate. Joy, lust, fear, desire, and hatred. His own emotions, the emotions of others, all mixed together. Closing his eyes as he focused on the rush of passion, on the raw, untainted decadence of it all, he understood what she had meant. What she had meant when she said that this was not meant for mere mundanes.

It was new, delightful and disturbing rolled into one neat package. The closest he had come to it, to these series of scattered sensations, was the violent extraction of knowledge from the mind of another. Even that, however, had felt less intimate, somehow. There, he had been in control. Now? Now he was a passenger, a spectator to passion unconstrained.

Opening his eyes to the sound of her voice, a change could be seen. His smile was as easy as ever, but his eyes had shifted. Gone was the icy blue, a boiling orange having taken its place.

Allowing himself a slight pause, he raised his glass upward, watching briefly as the light from above made the silvery substance shimmer brilliantly. "A point well illustrated, I must say. Just like this... wonderfully intimate concoction of yours, the world is unpredictable. The Force is unpredictable. Those unwilling to adapt to the waxing and waning of politics, of power, of passion, will be swept aside by it. Even the staunchest mountain cannot stand the test of time, but the shifting coastline endures."

[member="Erin Tenel"]​

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Er'in laughed lightly, clearly pleased by both the compliment and the change that had taken place and after a moment's rather calculating consideration of her current position in both the conversation, the Empire and life in general, she moved to elegantly lounge in an entirely decorative fashion on one of her chairs.

"Well said, Adrian. I find we see ourselves in that preparation, as much as we see others."

She gestured to the space beside her, where there was - not really - enough room for two, well, if they were intimate, anyway.

"I've put my first card on the table..." She reached out with one leg and very gently touched his upper calf with her foot. "...but I recall you saying something about your own... innovations. So why don't you join me and we can discuss them?"

Show them off, more like. But Er'in enjoyed luxuriating in vanity and pride, it wasn't something you could afford to do all that often before it got into your head. She wasn't sure if that was true of Lord Vandiir or not, yet. But even if it was, highlighting that to him might be an act of charity... or creating a dangerous rival. So for now, she'd enjoy playing the succubus. It had been...

... well, since Haddie, actually. She missed that woman. There had been a lioness among Sith.

For a few long moments, Er'in's violet gaze drifted to the infinity of memory.

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]​

 

[AMCO]

Some would likely have been taken aback by her sudden directness. Some would have been offended. Adrian, guided by machiavellian hedonism at its worse, was utterly unconcerned with such silliness; rather, he wondered what angle she was pursuing. What she hoped to gain. No matter, he was only too happy to play along. Only too happy to see just how far she would take things.

"Certainly..." he drawled, sliding into the chair alongside her, a chair clearly not designed to accommodate two people at once. Not that he was complaining. "... I am always willing to discuss my... innovations."

While taking a moment to consider how to best explain his extensive projects in a concise manner, his hand gradually made its way towards her back with practised grace. The gesture said a lot about him, the hand even more so; it was soft, the hand of someone who did not work with their hands, but rather their mind. The hand of someone who had never had to struggle, to scavenge, to live day by day because of the uncertainty of the future. The hand of someone born into privilege.

"I have created talismans, small and large, but, as you can probably guess..." As if to illustrate the point, he traced lazy circles with his right hand. "... my passion lies with the biological. If I had to play favourites, I would go with my Tsudakyr: Beings of pure brain mass - perfectly loyal and far more intelligent than the average plebeian."

[member="Erin Tenel"]​

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Er’in’s skin spoke - and smelt - of an upbringing that wanted for nothing, for less than nothing, where every whim had been catered for and where every desire satisfied.

Which might explain why, for such apparent softness, she had such a hard edge to her - as exemplified in the scarification that marked that delicate, soft skin. Marks of suffering and selfish drive that could only be earned by someone who in some way rejected such a life, yet still clung onto much of the vanity that went with it.

She didn’t object to the hand, if anything she leant back into it, but if she was considering a further move - and she was - she kept it firmly to herself for now.

“The only flesh I have had cause to work with is my own.” She admitted. “Inanna is... not typical in the process, more sorcerous than alchemical both by origin and modification.”

The demon-elemental floated silently nearby, if it/she was bored or interested, it showed no sign of it.

“Do you not find that selfless loyalty compromises creative thinking?” She asked, the question genuine and the interest with it. “Computational power - biological or mechanical - is one thing, but as someone who used to surround herself with droids - even ones with personalities, and having seen those develop and flourish into individuals more useful than say, your average clone trooper, I have always found that loyalty tends to come with the preface ‘unthinking’. I wouldn’t deny it beats a knife in the back...”

She tilted her head back to press into his hand, but the flirtation was both purely unconscious and a punctuation of her point. In fact, the less attention she paid to her flirtation, the more grandiose it became. She really didn’t notice the way her finger traced around the rim of her glass in a mirror of his pattern on her back.

“... but do such entities really provide you more than say, a smart droid brain? Or are they linked to you somehow, providing you additional out-of-body intellect and processing?”

That part, at least, clearly intrigued her, from the thoughtful tone at least.

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]

 

[AMCO]

Head tilting to look at the Sithspawn - Inanna - without moving an inch further away from Er'in, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That was my starting point too. Sorcery, that is. My first creations were... deeply flawed. The consequence of using Sorcery to do the work of Alchemy. I... always suspected it would be less of a problem when working with creatures not of flesh and blood. I see you have proven as much."

At that, he flashed her a brief grin. He could not deny that their current closeness was more than a little intriguing, but it was her mind that made her worthy of his respect. It was her mind that made him consider her as more than a tool, or a lesser to condescendingly take under his wing. Not that he would have been open about his feelings, if such had not been the case; he was far too socially adept to let most people know how little regard he had for them and their opinions.

Responding to her gestures, conscious and subconscious both, by moving even closer, Adrian made a lazy wave with the hand not currently occupied with her as if to acknowledge her point. "Indeed so; perfect loyalty does not come without a price. My Tsudakyr are, however, considerably more adaptable than any droid I know of, and the greatest of them, the Overminds, have displayed an almost uncanny intellect, though even they struggle somewhat with the inherent unpredictability present in most sentients." Shrugging slightly, he continued. "I have not, however, linked them directly to myself. I'm afraid telepathy has never been my strong suit - I have always been better at the manipulation of more tangible forces, especially energy."

Chuckling warmly, he began to lightly trace the runes marking her otherwise unblemished skin. Not that he would ever think of such a fine creation as a blemish. "Of course, that inherent limitation is why I have begun working on the creation of a new breed of beings. Sithspawn unrestrained by any innate loyalty, free to choose for themselves. Free to excel." All but radiating excitement, his belief in the undertaking was apparent. "Perhaps, one day, I will create beings worthy of rising to the highest echelons of power within the Sith. Beings superior to unmodified humans, as well as most other forms of life."

[member="Erin Tenel"]​

 

[Er'in Tenel]

“I believe they may call those ‘apprentices’.” Er’in replied with a teasing smile and a gentle caress. “But I take your point, actually, I believe it would be a most interesting test. Any half-decent Sith can create monsters of immense power, but the process tends towards inherent limitations, as you say.”

She swirled her glass, thoughtfully considering the point.

“What then does the process take away, and is it the process or the perspective of the Sith performing the process? Particularly within the Empire, we have a strong tradition of Hierarchy - I cannot speak for the Jen’ari, perhaps they are cut from different cloth. Although they seem weak, without power or ideology worth chasing and their leader is beyond insane in his autocracy - our Dark Lord rules with a much more... subtle hand.”

Her nails drum out a thoughtful beat.

“Or is it the essence of control inherent in our philosophy. But if it is, surely a witch or Dark Jedi would find circumstances different?”

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]​

 

[AMCO]

"Philosophy, mentality, ideals. Important aspects, certainly. To a scientist studying a mere natural phenomenon, such factors would likely be of limited importance. But the Force is no exact science, is it?" Closing his eyes, he allowed his body to relax, to respond to what was all around him. He could feel the "taint" of the Dark Side, as the ignorant masses considered it, all but oozing from himself, mixing ever so subtly with the ripples sent out by the woman and her creations.

"It's so much more... personal than that. So much more than that. Greater philosophical differences have their importance, to be sure, the Force is shaped by the individual. No, the limitations must lie elsewhere, for even amongst the staunchest supporters of the way of the Sith individuals vary greatly. Not to mention the outliers and indeed the witches and their ilk."

Fingers still tracing her markings lazily, he hummed thoughtfully. "Personally, I have always considered it a self-made problem. Too often we mould them for absolute loyalty, then try to add creativity - the spark of life - as a mere afterthought. Why not, I figured, turn the whole process on its head? Not a new idea, certainly, but one I would like to spend more time exploring on a... larger scale."

Head tilting slightly to gaze at her the fiery creature in the room with them, he smiled lazily. "I wonder, how did this one come to be? Loyalty, individuality... or both?"

[member="Erin Tenel"]​