Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Echoes of Starlight

The stars whispered in their own way, a hushed murmur that only came when a soul returned to their fold. A smile spread across the lips of the former Echani Matron as she sank into the soft embrace of her chair. The galaxy had twisted itself into a curious state, empires crumbled, and the bright-eyed children of the Force wandered lost. Spencer had not walked this era's path, but with her wife leaving traces of her presence across the stars, something stirred within her. A quiet summons, an undeniable call to act.

Rising from her seat, she drifted toward the kitchen, where the teapot let out its shrill, familiar whistle. Steam curled into the air as she poured the water over delicate blue floral leaves, watching the color deepen, shift. One, two, three cubes of sugar dropped in, dissolving as she passed a hand over the cup, coaxing the warmth to settle just as she liked.

Through the Force, she reached outward, a whisper across the cosmos, a touch only Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin would recognize. A gentle pull, woven with longing and unspoken words. There were things they needed to discuss, matters that stretched between them like constellations unseen. But above all else, she longed to cherish her wife.
 

Ashin Cardé Varanin

Couple bodies in the garden where the grass grows
There were Force calls and there were Force calls. Currently, Ashin had wedged herself into a weird little corner of the cosmos called Jutrand, quite some distance from home, but not for nothing had she devoted herself to the lore of Vectivus a good seventy years ago. And thus, in tangible apparition, looking much like her first face, she came around a corner, impossibly, and felt like she was there.

Their home had comfortable chairs aplenty; she took one facing her wife. Didn't make herself a drink, though; the protection ritual had obvious limits. Stretch them, transgress, and weird tended to result.

"Quinn is doing well," she said as if she wasn't twenty thousand parsecs away sweating in a qabbrat meditation chamber. "She seems more seasoned. I'm just afraid it's come the hard way."

Spencer Varanin Spencer Varanin
 
Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin was never one to keep her waiting. Before the thought had even fully formed, Spencer had known that her wife would heed the call. She sipped her tea unhurriedly as Ashin appeared and relayed news of their youngest. A single brow arched as she swallowed her sip.

"I'm glad she's well. I'd heard troubling things from Susevfi."

The galaxy and its ever-shifting tides had never escaped her notice, nor had the movements of her children. Spencer had felt the moment her child slipped from this plane, yet she had not interfered. The Force had lessons to teach, and its chosen would not be spared from them. She pressed a hand to her chest over the quiet ache in her heart. "She needed to grow," the mother said with sorrow. I only wish it hadn't been in this way."

She exhaled, her fingers tightening slightly around the teacup. "I should see Srina soon. She's done well by the girl, but if I had foreseen the trials she would endure, I would have prepared my favored more carefully." Spencer took another sip, allowing herself a moment of thought. Noelle had been easy to watch over; her children were growing, and their grandmother longed to see more of them. But such was life, the inevitable push and pull of time.

Her gaze flickered back to Ashin. "Have you any word on Ibaris? Last I knew, she was leading one of the fallen Empires. It seems history has a habit of swallowing those with ambition."

Leaning against the armrest, she rested her head on one hand, watching her consort with quiet longing. "When are you returning to my side?" Her voice softened, threaded with something deeper. "I've missed you."
 

Ashin Cardé Varanin

Couple bodies in the garden where the grass grows
Feeling oddly restless - well no, not odd at all, this was hard work and she had things worth discussing too - Ashin got back out of the chair and made herself caf, just as if she were present.

"I've never spent much time around Srina Talon, truth be told," she said over her shoulder. "Quinn clearly owes her and thinks the world of her, and I suppose that connection has been useful protection. Insulated her from the worst of Sith politics, perhaps."

The caf maker filled a mug. She could almost feel the heat of it, even smell it. Didn't drink it, or it would get all over the rug. She sat back down.

"Ibaris - yes, I heard a rumour she fought for them on Tython. And yes, that empire's crumbling. The Pomojema tried to scoop up some resources and decent students, but I don't know more than that. I'm certain she's fine. She always kept herself well insulated."

Ashin set the mug aside.

"I'm retiring. Thirty...seven years, I think. The Pomojema will have a new captain."
 

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