Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Darkness

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DARKNESS
Tags: Palm-Imer Palm-Imer


The hall was quiet.

At this time of night the halls were always quiet. There were the shifting steps of the Palace Guard, doing their patrols in pairs and small teams. From time to time a chamber servant would move from one room to the next, seeing them properly cleaned and set to order. However, aside from the Palace staff and guard there were few who moved about Dragonne palace at the hour of the raven. This night the King had stirred. Nightmares from another life had plagued him for hours and hours until finally he threw himself from the embrace of his wife and the warmth of his bed. At times like this he preferred the silence and darkness of the palace halls. The lights that were fastened into the ceiling were properly dimmed, wrapping the King in a cloak of shadows as he moved about.

He had that same regal posture as always, yet his expression was something more. It was not quite unsure, however it was racked in thought and contemplation. A single hand upon his chin he searched his mind for the source of his nightmares, thinking to purge them.

Those members of the guard he passed stopped to part the center of the hall, bowing their heads respectfully. "Votre Majesté." Was spoken out at the King in a hushed greeting. He never cared to acknowledge them with anything more than a nod of his head or wave of his hand. He was not wearing a regal suit or set of robing either. In fact the King was bare of feet, with silk sleeping pants flowing down to the floor. He had on a black and amethyst cloak, however it was thrown open to reveal his bare chest. A chest that was marred in scars, some of great time and others more fresh and telling.

He'd first stopped in the room closest to his bedchambers. His son's room. Aries had been deep in sleep, with his lips puckered out cutely as if expecting a bottle of warmed milk. His dark brown curls and warm toned skin were so brilliantly reflections of his mother's influence in the boy. Yet the shape of his jaw and the cut of his shoulders revealed the Malvern within the boy. His presence had brought the King some relief, so much so that his lips curled into a light smile just before Adron pressed his lips to his son's cheek and pulled the youngling's blanket back over him. Yet, by the time the King shut the door to his son's room, his mind was filled once again of course this time he knew why.

Twenty years. It had been nearly twenty years since the King of Illyria, formerly Count of Serenno, had seen the majority of his family ripped from the living realm. The thought caused the man to take hold of the handle to his son's room and squeeze it until the blood flowed from his hand. This action alone caused Adron to glance down, gazing at his hand in surprise before slowly pulling it back from the door. He stared at the hand until the skin returned to its natural hue. Once the blood returned to his hand he continued to gaze at his palm before slowly curling it into a fist. He'd been surprised that after twenty years the rage within him was yet an inferno that casted such a powerful wave of heat through out him. This was what it was about. The cracks in his armor that were so open to the world outside it made him want to throw up. Fear. This was the emotion that guided all men, all beings, the fear of a fate to pass.

The man scoffed bitterly. Hating to see such weakness spill through him. Immediately he turned from the door to his son's room and made his way back down the dark hall. There was no intention of taking to sleep this night. No, the thought of a fate he could not adjust did not quite sit well with the man, so he made his way deeper in the palace. The reflection pools. He needed to accelerate his plans and needed to do it quickly. That required a single presence. So the moment that the King entered the chamber of the reflection pools he turned to the black waters with a knowing gaze. He pulled the shimmersilk cloak from his body, allowing it to fall to the floor below him as he approached the waters. His feet dipped into the cool black waters, allowing his body to be pulled deeper into the Dark Side. The steps in the pool were large and imposing, each step bringing him deeper into the waters until finally he had fully submerged himself. He laid in the dark waters, standing on the pearlescent marble deep below.

Stray wisps of black hair flowed around him as he kept his lips and eyes closed. Then in one single push into the force he called out to her.


" Palm-Imer Palm-Imer ."
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ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪᴅᴀᴇ
Heavy was the weight that fell upon her shoulders, but it was easy to carry the burden of a responsibility she cherished. Geminidae, her people, nothing meant more to the Ambassador than them. Very few shared her opinions, those who chose to stand in favor of change and progress were only a brave minority, and she often felt like she stood alone. But now, gently leaning over the balcony of the chambers that had been generously offered to her, it all seemed worth it.

As her honeyed eyes glided across the outline of Azurine City's horizons, the early rays of moonlight showering it in a silver glow and the fresh breeze of night wind cooling her skin, Palm could say with confidence that she knew this was the right path to follow. She could only hope that the rest would open their eyes, in time, to this reality and the myriad of possibilities it offered if they only made it come true. This treaty with Illyria had been a first step, now it was only a matter of keeping up her efforts.

Not long after she returned to the room, she rid herself of the elegant clothes and the jewels that adorned her during the day to exchange them for more comfortable attire. A simple nightgown of fine cloth, its pearly shade contrasting against her tan skin. It wasn't what she normally wore, but as guests Ambassadors always aimed to fit in with their surroundings while retaining only the necessary traits and distinctions that identified them as geminian. She soon found herself sliding beneath the lush covers of the bed, the days in Illyria were filled with work as the final details of the treaty were sorted out and she needed her energy. Luckily, sleep came easy to a clear conscience, and it did not take much waiting until the clutches of sleep dragged her into the fluid and vast realm of unconsciousness.

Palm was not much of a dreamer. It was only on rare occasion that the images of her sleeping mind took the shape of things fantastical or unknown, and more often than not this was the result of the Force calling out to her. No, her dreams were a lot more familiar, for the Ambassador often dreamed of her own memories. Her sleep was spent walking across the empty corridors of the Atheneum that saw her grow, in the fields of the Navah Xae where her connection to the Force had been expanded and refined, of the many faces she missed that awaited her return. And one among them was always highlighted, its presence ever heavy on her heart. Her brother, Liras-Striff, who she had not seen since nearly four years now.

Many said time would turn into habit, and that eventually missing her only relative would be but a background feeling. They had been wrong. It was recently that the bond that once tied her to her twin had dissipated, broken due to lack of contact. And Palm could feel its absence even in her sleep.

It was lucky, then, that the images that plagued her were happy. Old conversations held with Liras, their antics and mischievous escapades when they were nothing but two insolent kids with every intention of taking on the whole galaxy. Her dreams were melancholic and filled with home-sickness, and yet they were also the greatest source of comfort she had been able to find ever since she first left the place of her birth behind. Until a strange feeling of discomfort, of foreboding, began permeating through the contented tethers of her visions. The sleeping form of the young woman began to turn, a slight frown settling on her brow as her memories slowly began to twist into jarring images and dark thoughts.

Her heart began beating faster, ramming against her ribs as she attempted to break free from the sleep she had welcomed so willingly a few hours before. And as the sudden nightmare reached its climax, the woman's eyes snapped open as she moved into a sitting position, her muscles tensing up and her breathing heavy as she quickly scanned the empty room for threats. The last words Palm had heard were still clear in her mind, her own name being called. The strong pull she felt in the Force let her know that although her nightmare had only taken place in her mind, there was something, someone else reaching out to her in the waking realm.

She stood up from the bed, the sudden absence of the blanket making her feel as if she had just stepped into an icy lake. Her hand took hold of a silken robe of an inky teal color, embroidered with flowered patterns of dark blue thread. She put it on and fastened it tightly around her waist. Palm could sense the darkness that called clearly, and knew where it was that she needed to go. Guided by its whispers, she walked the hallways of the palace until reaching the doors of a chamber that she remembered too well. After taking in a small and needed breath, the geminaie found herself once more standing before the reflecting pool. Parabellum, it had whispered to her upon their last encounter.

Barefooted, devoid of the adornments and accents, her hair not carefully woven into some style but let loose and falling in its natural waves around her and without the inhuman temperance that ridding herself of feeling provided, Palm was tonight fully herself. The strong wall she built whenever she made use of her species skill to manipulate her behavior and dampen her emotions, the acclaimed Ambassador facade, was completely down for the first time during her visits to Illyria. Facing the waters and their King seemed all the more daunting now, but she did not shy away. Her amber eyes failed to find the monarch within the chamber, but the discarded cloak laying on the floor let her know his whereabouts.

Even her neutral presence in the Force seemed to shine like a light in contrast to the imposing darkness of this place, "You called, your Majesty" Her voice spoke through the Force. For a second, she feared it had not been the King but the pool itself the one that had reached out to her, the feelings it had inspired still too fresh. But then again, this darkness and the King, maybe they were one and the same.
 
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Dark
Tags: Palm-Imer Palm-Imer

The waters were still.

As Palm-Imer entered the room she could feel the familiar chill of the Dark Side. It welcomed her with a cold kiss upon her soul as if she was beloved by the twisting nether. The room was silent until Palm disturbed the quiet, breaking silence by pressing into the nether that surrounded her. That was when the waters quaked ever so softly.

Adron began to rise from below the black liquid, his head emerging dripping in the clearest of droplets while he kept his head hung low, apparently gazing down at the water below him. His eyes were closed but even still their were stray wisps of amethyst mist flowing from them, quickly disappearing into the shine of the moonlight that washed over the room. He raised his head slowly as if his muscles had grown tight and constricted him. He stretched his neck, extending his arms out to each side as he let out a groan against the pain that filled his body. His eyes finally came open and the shine they held would seem captivating to Palm, yet the Sith Lord brought a lazy hand over his eyes as if to hide them from her, or her from them.

"Yes, I did call out to you and you answered my call." His voice was low and even, as if his mind was tired and no longer held the strength of emotion.

His feet came out of the water, stepping onto the surface of pool as the Force kept him from plummeting back into the depths below. He glanced back down to the waters, staring at their subtle shifts and wanes as he stood above them. They were so drawing, even to him, especially to him. However the black waters were a drug for a Sith Lord and if he abandoned restraint then they would transform him into a vessel of evil.

"I wanted to enjoy your presence." He stated, keeping his eyes covered as he stepped closer to the young woman. "You see. I have projected myself into the galaxy time and time again, but never has your like come into my sights." As his feet stepped onto the obsidian marble surrounding the pool, he finally removed his hand from his eyes, showing the brilliant amethyst orbs. "The Force is strong with you."


"I was wondering if you'd like to take a trip with me?" He asked her.

That was when the Sith Lord held his hand out to the woman with a content expression coming across his face. He wondered if the woman would accept.
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ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪᴅᴀᴇ
Her amber eyes remained locked onto the stillness of the waters, black against amber. Her heart seemed to slow within her chest as she awaited, embraced by arms that were both welcoming and threatening. That had always been the secret of the Darkside's siren song, it was the purest form of all beings, but the one that would destroy them if allowed to. It was home turned prison, and so very few could remain within its walls without being chained and subdued. Its voice was too sweet to her ears, it moved deep forces within her so easily...and it was daunting, it inspired a timid form of admiration and fear. Like standing defenseless before a mighty and beautiful predator, enthralled by it even with the knowledge that it promised pain.

She remained in her place, for a moment her bare feet craved to step into the pool, but the uneasiness kept her immobile. In a way, even being near the waters felt like being submerged in them, and as the King emerged she felt as though she was being pulled in, deeper and deeper, to replace him. The combined essence of the monarch and the chamber permeated through her, none of her defenses stopping them. It was not as overwhelming as it had been the first time, and this thought brought more disquiet than it did comfort.

Her golden gaze then fell on Adron, her attention eclipsed by him. The scars that marred his skin did not go unnoticed, and their presence seemed like a reminder of the previous musings that had taken root in her mind. Danger and pain.

His eyes shone with a brightness she had not witnessed before, but the display was short lived as the King soon proceeded to cover them. The young woman folded her hands before her, remaining silent and feeling small in the face of the forces that surrounded her, even if she did a good job at standing still and composed. Then he spoke, and the simple truth of his words seemed to dent her usual determination.

She had heard his call and even despite the dark influences it presented, she had answered none the less. It had been easier to trust her resolve and will power before it was put to the test, but there was no turning her back now. A dance with a devil, these had been some of her first true brushes with the lures of the Darkside and now in the service of the Illyrian monarchs, she'd have to accept they would not be the last.

When the King stepped back onto the cold marble of the floor and removed his hand, his eyes would be met with Palm's. For some reason she could not explain to herself, she made no attempt to keep the emotions that shone behind her gaze from him. Confusion, intrigue, apprehension...they had all been hidden on her first visit, but not now. In a way, it made her willingness to remain in the place and the ability to not give in to the soft whispers of the waters all the more admirable, because it was more human.

Her gaze fell to his extended hand when offered it, and the question lingered in her mind for a moment. A slight concern wanted to keep her from accepting, while her curiosity and the false familiarity that the dark inspired willed her to oblige. The Ambassador decided to follow her instincts, and her eyes would meet the amethyst ones again as she placed her hand in his. "Of course, your Majesty." She responded while nodding her head slightly, slowly beginning her attempts to brace herself and still her emotions. His tranquil expression brought some calmness.

A word then crossed her thoughts, it belonged to her mother tongue but its form was ancient and barely heard anymore. Pasicor. Compromise. Tonight, she'd make a concession between her reluctance to entertain and toy with the Darkside and her curiosity. She already knew there was much to be learned from the King, even if their philosophies clashed. It was not an opportunity to be wasted. Now, all there was left was to see what new experience waited to be discovered. As her mind began to settle once more she wondered what had kept the King up in the late hours of the night, but would not voice her questions for now.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 
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PHANTOM REALM
Tags: Palm-Imer Palm-Imer

Darkness take us.

The command through the Force was a swift one. In the moment that Palm's hand fell into Adron's she would feel herself swallowed by darkness. All of her senses were suddenly ripped away from her as she descended into a void of eerie moving shadows.

She fell.


She fell for what felt like hours. Her limbs flailing through an endless pit of memory and potential. Every thought that crossed her mind was so vivid it took hold of its own consciousness and danced away from the woman as if compelled by some unnatural force. For a mind unprepared, it was a vicious cycle. To breed a thought into creation and physically watch it abandon you as you fell down an endless pit. If her mind thought of hunger, she'd taste every meal she'd ever enjoyed, remembering the certain pangs of hunger that brought on her need to feast...before suddenly her hunger vanished with the memory. A sense of mirage and amnesia followed with each of these thoughts until finally...

Her body slammed hard into the ground, yet it felt no pain. They had arrived. They had arrived to a destination that did not exist in a world that none could fathom. When Palm's eyes game to some point of focus, she would see the King standing before her. He was no longer scantily clothed as he had been moments ago. Now he wore a stunning three-piece suit of cream and amber. His form was a stark contrast to the black void that surrounded the two of them. His hand was outstretched to the woman with a pleasant expression coming over his lips. "I suppose I should have warned you. To come to this place is no simple thing. It takes me...around seven seconds however for you? The journey can take hours, perhaps even days." When Palm's hand rested in his own, she would feel a subtle faintness about him. As if he was there, yet not. Depending on her connection with the Force it could be a simple feeling or a glaring sensation.

"I was hopeful to visit this place with you, as I have never been before. I thought it would be a pleasant place for the two of us to speak." He looked to the woman, helping her rise to her feet. His eyes were amethyst as usual, with the unnatural hue of something that was not quite human. "We're in a Phantom Realm." He explained to the woman, before she even had the chance to ask where it was they had landed. "That is what I call them at least." He closed his hand into a tight fist, raising it in the air above them. "Though..."

In a momentary snap, the world around them shifted. The darkness was pierced with clouds of grey and lightning streaks of white. A massive crack flowed over the entire world as if they were stuck inside a crystal ball that had been terribly cracked. It was bizarre but it had it's own unnatural beauty to it.

"...it is an easier concept to say that we are within your mind." The King revealed, his hand falling back to his side while he looked to Palm curiously. "It is no less beautiful than I suspected."
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ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪᴅᴀᴇ



Nothing could have prepared her for the experience. Even when her senses had been flaring in attention because of the looming presence of the Darkside around her, even when her focus had been completely placed upon the King, not even a rippling in the Force warned her that she'd be dragged into a different kind of darkness by the Sith Lord's power and will. And so she fell, into an indescribable unknown.

Her heart seemed to jump up to the base of her throat as her amber eyes widened, her body desperately wanted to adjust to the fall as it usually did but found it was unable to do so. She reached out, trying to find any form of stability, but there was none. Her thoughts were running rampant, and each seemed to hit her with a wave of remembrance so tangible that it moved her to revisit emotions she had forgotten a long time ago - or so she believed. Details that were nothing more than unnoticed afterthoughts suddenly seemed to materialize in one way or the other, and the young woman was shaken by a mighty beast made of fear, confusion and uncertainty.

Had her consciousness left her?

Maybe something had happened before the moment she accepted the King's hand, maybe this was his doing or maybe something had been unhinged within her. Her own voice seemed to multiply within her mind, each one whispering a different thought as it happened, increasing her alarm. Her heart was now beating with a fury, stomping against her chest as though it was too trying to help her make sense of this, to no avail. And the fall just wouldn't stop...

Palm's breathing was heavy and mostly cut off. She willed her mind to go blank, to abandon the efforts of logic that only seemed to make the experience more jarring, more sensitive to every effect. But of course, she could not accomplish the task completely and for the longest of times, Palm felt as though she was reliving her life in disorder, but with a detail she had never believed possible. Sometimes it brought a broken smile to her lips, and sometimes a tear would well up in her eyes and slide down her cheek as her body finally gave in to the fall, convinced that no matter what this was she could not fight it.

Then everything came to a stop, and as her body painlessly collided with the bottom of whatever this was, her breathing resumed suddenly and forcefully. Her chest heaving and her throat wheezing as though she had just been drowning. And in a way she was, in memories instead of water. Had she been dragged into the pool's depths? No, its darkness would be overpowering if that had been the case.

What was this?

And as she gained focus once more, she saw the King. His clothing had changed, although that was the least surprising thing after what she had just experienced. She was speechless, and confused, and every thought and feeling felt entirely too raw. His voice helped her come down from the confusion, familiar and different than the things she had just envisioned - it was not coming from her, and right now that seemed to make it more real. Still, her lips still trembled slightly and her brow was knitted in hesitation and doubt as she listened.

Once again, her hand reached out to his, needing the help to regain her footing after hours, days of being unable to properly move a muscle. It took him seconds...it was hard to digest that all that time had just been an illusion to her, born out of how unfamiliar she was with her own mind, or maybe because of her inability to properly navigate it. A Phantom Realm? Was all this of his construction? Then the scene around them changed and the darkness was dispelled in exchange for a cloudy landscape, torn and beautiful. It inspired an eerie and ominous familiarity.

"...it is an easier concept to say that we are within your mind."
Her head turned suddenly towards him, amber eyes no longer gazing at their surroundings but at his, seeking answers in the amethyst orbs. "Within my mind?" She repeated, unable to fully come to terms with the idea. She had never heard about a power like this one, and even though now she knew all this was the making of her own thoughts, the fact that he could so easily bring them here painted the King in an even higher light than the one she had already perceived him with. It was hard, being faced with the reality that she was truly defenseless, that they were standing in a place that one way or the other held everything she hid from herself and other and made her into the person she was.

Yet for some reason, she didn't fear his intentions. Trust was too a strong word, but she didn't feel at risk, she was curious. Not unlike a child being introduced to something new for the first time, cautious while still deeply taken by the need to know more. "How are we here? I've never heard of this being possible..." She mused, for a moment forgetting to use his title even though her tone was still respectful. Palm still tried to keep any stray thoughts from wandering into her mind, afraid of how this might affect their surroundings.

"The fall...It felt like going through my life all over again." She was still processing the feelings that every memory had awakened, the effects of it easily visible behind her troubled gaze. If only she knew that there was so much that had remained unrevealed, even when the doors to her memories had been blown wide open.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern


 
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SHADOW
Tags: Palm-Imer Palm-Imer


The young woman's reaction to Adron's words caused the Sith Lord to let out the slightest of chuckles. He turned his amethyst eyes to the woman and clasped his hands behind his back while arching a brow at her. "Is it so difficult to believe?" He inquired, yet as he spoke his words faded as if he was departing from her side, yet he was very much standing in front of her...until suddenly he was not. She would not be able to recognize when he disappeared or how, it happened in a flash yet it felt as if she had been standing alone for hours.

"The mind exists as another extension of the Force, no different from the rest of the galaxy." His voice returned and Palm would see Adron passing by her, as if he had merely wandered behind her back and out of her sight for a moment. "Every connection of the Force is a gateway to a Phantom Place like this." He told her, holding his hand up to the realm around them. His steps slowed for a moment as he looked at Palm's inner mind, his eyes soaking in the many cracks and recognizing them for what they were, her conscious. Each crack was represented by a memory, emotion, or a thought that had placed its mark on the woman. It was almost like a map of who she was and why, yet even Adron could not read it flawlessly, only one person could.


"We are all the master's of our own cages, the forger of our own chains. Those who hold such power to venture into the depths of our own Phantom Realm also hold the power to destroy the chains that inhibit us. I promise you...I have done it." He told her, with a slight smile. "You see, I respect the way your people view the Force. It shows restraint and focus, commitment."

That was when Adron brought both of his hands up, his palms raised towards the sky as his eyes gave off an even more vibrant glow. "It also shows stagnation. In this galaxy that we exist in, if we allow ourselves to lock away our own power then when times turn against us, what happens? What will we do? How will we fight." The man's hands curled into a tight fist and suddenly there was a pristine white flash.

When Palm's eyes opened they would not find themselves in her Phantom Realm any longer. No, instead they sat in the skies, among dark clouds and an odd amethyst horizon that surrounded them. There was no ground below them, only winds flowing through their hair and wrapping around their beings, keeping them suspended in the dark skies. Adron appeared once again, this time he wore a black suit, embroidered with crimson and sunburnt orange. He stepped in front of Palm and looked to the woman with a curious expression. "Do you know where we are now?" He asked her, yet as the man's voice called out it echoed again and again, until finally it settled in skies far from where they were.

He did not answer, instead he merely pointed a finger to his own temple.

They were in his mind now.

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ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪᴅᴀᴇ


She was within her own being, and yet she had never felt so detached from her perception as she was in this moment. The voice of the Sith Lord seemed to come and go, distant and then close as if it chose out of its own will which tethers to follow. Or maybe it was the many corners of her mind, each listening to the voice in a different way, for different purpose. Echoing his words and remembering them each in a slightly different light, each with an meaning she would never be able to individually comprehend and which merged, in the end, in her own opinion of his thoughts and displays.

Then he vanished, and calmness that had began to grow within her as she settled on this experience faltered to give way to a whisk of disconcert and fear. Having her perception of time altered once again had her doubting the reality of this, but now better prepared to confront it than she had been during her fall, she reached through the Force and used its placid waves to hold herself close to all that surrounded her. As always happened whenever the Illyrian King was near, she could feel his imposing darkness. But now in her own realm, there was also a familiar and embracing neutrality, a balance.

Her eyes explored the landscape around them, burning it into her memory. Her Phantom Realm. It was intriguing to wander how it had looked before, and how it would look in the future. Her knowledge, or better said her lack of it, did not make it possible for her to understand the meaning of the shapes and colors so fully, but the fact that this was...her, everything that made her be who she was, tied her to this place. Maybe she did understand it, and simply could not explain it to herself.

Palm listened to the King as he explained his view. She had never doubted his power, specially not when she had already been robbed of words by mere displays of it. She had only witnessed such power in her own mentor, but then again the King's words were right: her mentor's was a restrained power, it did not flow as freely or as brightly as the monarch's darkness did. The view he expressed was understandable, at some point in her life during her training she had shared the same concern, and asked the pertinent questions. Even today, doubt sometimes bloomed within her. But in the end she had always returned to her teachings.

And then Adron raised his eyes and his hands towards the sky, and the bright flash of light engulfed them. At first, the winds blowing the long locks of her hair and the lack of a floor beneath her feet made her believe, for a moment, that she was falling again. Yet as her amber eyes opened to fall upon clouds and stars she knew this was not the case. Here darkness reigned once more, but for some reason it seemed to be more controlled, more tempered than when they were in the material realms of consciousness. The King appeared once more, his clothes changed, and her attention followed him.

The geminaie considered his question, her mind processing all the information available like child that was shown the wonders of the night sky for the first time. When she answered her voice was soft, "We are in your realm, your Majesty. Your mind," Her brow was still slightly knitted, but there was a pliancy to her. Palm was willing to see what he would show her, even if there was no denying that she was skeptical of the Darkside. Palm had found peace in her neutrality, and both the Light and the Dark were seen equally as consuming forces. She did not trust herself to control them, and power was nothing without control.

"Why do you show me this, your Majesty? Why bring me here?" Her question was laced with a genuine curiosity. He knew she lacked a tendency to the Dark, even if she was more than willing to contemplate and value whatever words of wisdom he spared her. That he was showing a world of possibilities and wonders to someone that would never use them.

But Palm was not truly aware of the fact that the King knew things she did not, things well beyond the realm of the Force. And maybe the King saw what was simply invisible to her own eyes.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern

 
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POWER OR LOSS?
Tags: Palm-Imer Palm-Imer


When Palm-Imer spoke next, the King's lips drew into a subtle smile. He leaned back, his form settling into a large throne of shadow and smoke that had seemingly appeared from nothing more than the sheer will of the Master of this Phantom Realm. In similar fashion, Palm would find herself sitting in a simple wooden chair of abstract reality. Some parts of it were formed of memory, some formed in concept, yet to the untrained eye it seemed to be nothing more than a mass of color and flash, like an array of lights forming a piece of furniture.

"Now you are asking the right questions." Adron said, raising a hand towards the woman in a praising gesture. "I brought you here because I wanted to show you this..." He said, his hands opening and gesturing to the world, the reality he had constructed around them. "Your Phantom Realm is constructed from your conscious and unconscious being. It is not only a mass of thoughts, emotions, and memories, but a key to who you are and who you can be." He told her. "Consider it the canvas with the edges filled in. The answer to the question that sits in the back of your mind. The key to the door that until now, has been locked."

The King turned his eyes to a particular vein that was visible to both Palm and himself. His eyes flickered back to Palm before he threw his hand towards the black vein. It pulsed before exploding out, forming a massive tear in the realm. Through that tear was a vision. A young boy, with ebony hair and youthful features. He could not have been any older than his mid-teens. He had a small bit of stubble upon his chin and vibrant, beautiful blue eyes. The boy wore a black cloak with a thick fur of grey and white falling over the shoulders. His cowl was drawn over his face, but the two in the Phantom Realm could see it clear as day.

It was Adron, a young Adron, a boy with tears falling freely down his cheeks as he stood in a courtyard covered in snow and frost. Surrounding him was a number of men and women, dressed regally and standing in silence as the boy stood with his back to them.

The elder version of Adron who sat in his throne looked to Palm, urging his chin back to the vision so she would watch what proceeded to happen. Every man and women who stood behind him approached, placing warm hands upon his covered shoulders. Some of the women offered humble kisses upon his wet cheeks and the men gave encouraging words. It continued for some time until the final person had said his peace. One by one and two by two those men and women departed the courtyard, leaving the boy to the frost and the cold. "That was the day I buried my father, mother, both of my older sisters, and my younger brother." Adron said as the vision faded away, recoiling back into the tiny vein it had started as.

Adron's hands came to settle in his lap as he spoke, almost matter of factly. "Those men and women there? They were the ones who murdered my parents. They killed my family and then placed hands upon my shoulder and offered me words of encouragement." He said, his lips curling into a dry, unamused smile. "The political climate of Serenno has always been a cold one."

"You see House Dooku had ruled Serenno for years, after the fall of House Serenno. Well, a turn of events led to House Malvern taking control of the planet. Mainly because House Dooku had been in disarray and House Malvern also had a scion-line of the Dooku clan. Making it politically and financially the most powerful House."

"I won't bore you with the details, but this power struggle resulted in a need to 'humble' our House. The result? Most of my family was wiped out. Aside from my younger sister who nearly lost her life and was forced to go into hiding until a few years ago. Oh, and my craven Uncle." He said, before looking to Palm and arching his brow curiously. "Do you ever wonder what it is like?" He said, mysteriously. "To be utterly powerless while the galaxy around you swallows all you love whole?"

"If it was a choice between power and loss, what would you choose, Palm-Imer?" He asked, with genuine curiosity in his tone. "Even if it meant paying a terrible price? Would you take the power?" He said in a hushed tone.

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ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪᴅᴀᴇ



She took in his words while in the profound silence one granted those who garnered their respect, maybe admiration even. Palm had always had a hunger, coded into her very own being by minds that had preceded her. She was, in essence, a learner. And Adron held knowledge she could only aspire to some day possess. The only thing that clashed in a hushed, slowed battle against this deep rooted curiosity was wariness, for his knowledge was vast but spoke of an obscurity that made her cower. Not like the Darkside of the Force made her uneasy, but because he spoke with the sentiment of someone who had learned from experience, the marring kind, the one that reshaped through destroying.

As the vision appeared before her, it did not take her long to recognize the young boy. Something deep within her came to life at the sight of his tear-stained cheeks, shouting truths from the corners of her mind but falling on deafened ears as its exclamations were lost to the walls and cages behind which it laid. To Palm, it felt like empathy, as if she could feel his sorrow, and for the time being it was easy enough to blame it on another of the mirages of the Phantom Realm.

Her eyes met Adron's, and they returned to the scene as he gestured for her to continue looking. One would have believed that the people offering their support to the boy were a comforting sight, yet the eyes of the young man told a different tale. She knew the feeling, even if she didn't know why, of being alone and friendless in a room full of people. Of being incomplete and isolated. This caused a flame of anguish to turn her heart into a dim candle. Why? Why did she feel this?

Then Adron's revelation came, and the young woman felt both astonished and humbled that he would share such a memory with her. Her amber eyes met his once more, the deepness of sadness and the glimmer of one who felt lost painting a picture in her orbs. "I am sorry, your Majesty." There was an honesty to her voice that was not easily matched, it did not speak of pity but of true condolence, unlike the ones that had been present on the remembrance. She could feel a creeping vulnerability reach her as she waited sitting on the chair, her hands folded in her lap. A wrongness within her, one she couldn't place.

Did she ever wonder what it was like?

For some reason she felt as if she knew, but she couldn't have. She had never been touched by tragedy. His question only deepened her contemplation. Would she take power and consequence over loss? Once she had heard a wise man say that gods threw dice but Fate played chess, and one wouldn't find out until too late that it had been playing with two queens all along. Fate won, and if she found herself on the losing end of a dark fate, would she stop it?

Palm knew her answer, but she didn't want to admit it to herself. There was one thing she loved with her whole heart and for it, there was no sacrifice too great. But love could also be a downfall. Her gaze finally settled on Adron, a lie would have been a comfort. But a comfort was not truth nor solution. Even in a soft tone, even in if a part of her was hesitant to speak the words, there was a finality to it that knew an absoluteness that very few things in this galaxy could ever aspire to know.

"I would do anything for my people"

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern


 
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DANCE
Tags: Palm-Imer Palm-Imer


The memories that Adron shared with Palm were some of the oldest and most infuriating that the man could conjure. They were the first thoughts in his mind that planted seeds of the Dark Side within him. It was a nostalgic thing to watch and though there was pain deep within him, it was shallow and no longer a thing of great concern. He had grown beyond the boy who cried over the deaths of his parents. He had grown so very much since then. He turned back to Palm-Imer as she offered her sorrows to the man. This time the Sith Lord showed something of a smile. It was neither warm nor cold, yet it held the truths of his heart within it. "We all face our terrors sooner or later. For me it was early in life and allowed me to grow into something more than I ever could have been. The man who survived that ordeal..." He paused, before smiling softly at Palm. "Well, lets just say it will not repeat itself." He promised her.

I would do anything for my people.

"I know you would." His words were spoken simply.

With that there was a sudden shift.

It was as if Palm's eyes, which were opened, were suddenly opened a second time. This time the two were sitting in the King's Office. The flow of color that filled their reality could be considered breathtaking. Adron glanced around for a moment, as if verifying their location, before turning his eyes back to Palm-Imer.


"I never offer something I cannot deliver." He said simply, his hands settling upon the desk before him. "I do not offer comfort, or a warm feeling in your chest that you have done the right thing, and I cannot even offer you the promise of a rested night knowing you have done the right thing. Because in the real galaxy these things don't exist. You see, these are fabrications that you're told since a baby that these are the things that "heroes" get to enjoy. This galaxy doesn't have any heroes or good guys. There are only two types of people in the galaxy. Those who are defenseless and those who are not." He warned the woman.

"You are defenseless." He told Palm-Imer truthfully. It was no lie. Even in the last few hours Adron had showed how open her mind was to him and he was not the only Sith Lord in the galaxy. The King stood from his chair, running a hand through his hair before looking to Palm intently. His amethyst eyes were heavy, yet they held a mysterious gleam to them. "I can offer you power and the means to control it. Nothing more, nothing less." He told the woman before stepping past her, a hand resting on her shoulder as he moved to the door before him. His hand wrested on the handle and he glanced back to her, his voice low. "All power comes with a cost. What are you prepared to pay?" He posed the question unexpectant of an answer as he made his way out of the room and into the main hall of his Palace.

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ɢᴇᴍɪɴɪᴅᴀᴇ



Her mind began conjuring up dark thoughts, so vague and in the back of her head that she could barely comprehend them at the moment but their presence was enough to set the cold embrace of a slow boiling dread within her. It was as if Adron's words were the helm of her thoughts, swaying them in a certain direction and she was none the wiser to it, why would she be?

As he spoke, her expression turned into a contemplative one. Palm was not a prideful being, she didn't know arrogance and even if she had, only a fool would have tried to disagree with his claims when he had so easily taken both of them to the depths of her own mind, a place that was out of reach of even for her. Adron was right, yet while standing in his dark presence and remembering the whispers and the voices of the reflecting pool, the very feelings that had threatened to surface under their influence, she couldn't help but stop herself.

Adron was right, but she could not accept what he offered. Palm had sworn a vow to the Soller Navah, she had found her center and her balance. And she knew, more than she'd like to admit, that the Darkness spoke to her with a strength and a temptation that not many knew. She knew the best path would have been to stay away, not only to forego his offer but to separate herself from this environment...but she couldn't. And it was not only her responsibilities tying her here, it was her own curiosity.

For better or worse, the young woman had begun to look up to the King, warily, with the caution of the creature who approaches that which is unknown, but strives to walk near it none the less. Trust was too a strong word, but she wanted to see what he would show her. It was a risky gamble, yet at this moment in time, either out of foolishness or the weakness of her curiosity, Palm felt like she could stand against the darkness and learn from the sidelines. As if she could come to know this power, without ever taking it in her hands.

As Adron walked away her gaze fell to the floor, no longer made of clouds but the familiar making of the King's office. She remained seated, her mind trying to work out her own machinations. Palm knew her silence would speak for her, or that even if it didn't Adron could just as easily reach into her thoughts. She couldn't accept his offer. It would be, in many ways, betraying who she was and those that stood with her. And still, on the other hand, a part of her did not want to let the King down, for some reason that escaped her understanding. Palm was dutiful, and for now her duty was to resist.

Just as the King was leaving the office, she spoke up, "Thank you for showing me this, Adron." Her voice was soft and it carried on the vacancy that was reflected by those who were deep in thought. It was the first time she had not addressed him by his formal title, perhaps her mind too preoccupied to remember this formality at the moment, and yet for some reason his own name seemed to carry a lot more respect and meaning than the words 'your Majesty' could, a grateful reverence, one that did not hide her feelings or thoughts in the slightest.

In the time she had known the King, she had found him to be wise and in many ways fascinating. Slowly but surely, the image of Adron was likening itself more and more to how she had seen her own Mentors in the past. And the idea was both reassuring and terrifying. Without knowing it, she was being molded into something different. In that trust that was naively being built, strings were being attached to her not unlike a puppet, artfully created. Blind to the weight this conversations and choices would carry in the future.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern


 
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