Faction Eternal Night [ CIS & EE ]

[Thorald Magnusson]

Wearing: A Suit​

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B A L L R O O M​

Tagging: O P E N
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His eyes scanned the room from the side, the man's eyes looking over all the guests that had arrived between the two neighboring nations. The music was an ever-changing flux of smooth music to do a small diddy too or a slow ballad that pairs could break off and take their time with one another.

Jerric looked down towards his hands as he let out a soft sigh, his eyes ran over the creases as he stood there, the pairs of men and women that shared the floor with each other, it reminded him of the time he was a mere cadet at the Naval Academy. He was a different man back then, he was no more than a wee lad, with no knowledge of anything that the galaxy had to hold for him.

The wee lad that had taken a childhood sweetheart to the Naval Academy ball, he remembered as she rest her head against his chest, his hand wrapped around hers as they rocked back and forth slowly, he had hummed the slow tune to her as the two had spent that time together, their lives so whole at that moment, but that was a long time ago.

Everything had gone downhill from there between the two though, Jerric had been sent off to the corners of the Galaxy, forced away from the sweetheart he had so adored. He thought of the blonde often, her hair flowing in the wind as he had followed her out into the forest when they were so young. The times she had helped him out with his math in grade school, and the times he had helped her through college.

It took him several years, but when he had finally arrived back home, he looked for the girl he had left after that night in the ballroom, hoping to see her being so successful, being able to pick up right back where they had left off, but it was not to be. Jerric had found the girl he had loved so, and she had found another man and they had wed a few months prior to his return.

Jerric's heart had broken that day, and he remembered that feeling of grief that he felt, thinking that the world was so cruel, so unforgiving to a man who had given everything to protect those he held closest to him. But in time his heart did heal, and she became a brief reminder of the sacrifices those in the military had to take to defend those who could not defend themselves.

But this was all in the past, Jerric was now a High Lord of the Confederacy he had so faithfully served, and he was as dedicated to protecting those as he was when he started off this endeavor, not letting the corruption of power get into his brain, his heart remaining loyal to the values he had set out upon all those years ago.

The sound of the song ending snapped him out of his trance, a sorrowful look had filled his face as he remembered the past he had lived through, and the times he had lost. But he was not there to sulk, Jerric was there to enjoy the time and mingle with the other guests at the ball, he just had to find one willing to talk to him aswell.

​

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: Vengard [Ballroom]
Wearing: XxXxXxX
Tag: Kyyrk

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Alé settled in at the sound of his laugh, though, it wasn't really a conscious thought to do so. Kyyrk would feel the tension leave her limbs while she came to trust that he wouldn't lead her into a wall nor step on her toes. Alessandra listened to the story he told and filed away bits and pieces of information for later. She was still putting the jigsaw pieces of who he was together. At the moment—She had all the puzzle pieces on the edge. Some of the middle. But, there were gaps.

The fact that he hailed from a prominent family wasn't exactly a surprise. It all depended on the meaning of the word "prominent" and the context of which their greatness had faded over the years. Was he referring to a planetary scale, sector, or even galactic? She couldn't know for sure. Not yet, anyway. Alessandra turned deceptively soft eyes back toward him when he challenged her perspective of his day-to-day routine. He was missing the point. Deliberately, it seemed. "—And I do more than count coin…"

She breathed, brow furrowing for a moment. "If you were merely a student, you'd be able to do that from the safety of our backyard. The Force has a will. And so often, we go to war for it. We take the things that we learn and press them into tools that can be wielded for the bigger picture."

The bigger picture that she referred to? War. All roads, led to the same point in which bloodshed would become an eventuality. Perhaps not here, not today, but they would never be free of it.

Alessandra continued to remain close, no matter her words, and her shoulders seemed to become smaller still while she drew an unbidden sense of contentment from his nearness. For the moment it felt all right, safe, dare that word enter her mental vocabulary. With the light music carrying and a tempered sway, she felt momentarily at ease. What she hadn't expected, however, was for Kyyrk to capitulate to her tongue-in-cheek demands. When his voice began to float down from above her head she looked up—A little surprised. Then, softly pleased.

She could feel the Force at work. A subtle and invisible wave that wrapped them up in a cocoon that didn't exactly advertise its purpose, but she could guess. No-one turned to look. No one seemed to be aware of anything unusual at all. The soft pressure to her shoulder caused her to lay her head back against him and her ear remained close. Just listening. The way his singing voice seemed to mingle and transcend with all else was almost startling, but, beautiful. Ephemeral in a way that he made sound almost touchable with fluidity.

The Minister murmured little things. Little answers, to little questions. But mostly…She just wanted to hear the nearly solemn song that rang in her head. Hear him. She'd never felt the Force being manipulated in such a way, nor, would she have ever thought to do it. It made it feel as if they were suddenly wrapped up in their own little world. It was a little dizzying the way her chest began to feel tight while butterflies flew precariously around in her stomach, but, the sensation was far from unpleasant. She was…Moved.

Pure and simple.

Nothing really moved her. Not, anymore. Alessandra had often wondered if she had reached a point in life where the only thing that held her interest was furthering her career. Everything had been such a sea of gray for so long. Colorless. When had that become her life? When had she allowed that to happen? Somewhere between becoming a deposed Queen and a divorcée, she imagined. Still.

Her hand slipped out of his and wrapped around his middle instead.

"One day, I'll be able to come home for good. Live the life I always wanted..."​

Alessandra liked her work. That was never the problem. It was everything else that left her feeling like a washed-out oil-painting where the lines had become indecipherable. Rather than say anything she simply remained where she was. One hand against his chest, close to her cheek, and the other kept close near the middle of his spine. Kyyrk wouldn't be able to see her face. Not well. She hadn't expected to react so strongly toward anything the Eternal Empire had to offer—Let alone, being sang to.

"You…", she murmured, though, her tone seemed off. Far away, but present. Strained with what she could not say. "You should sing more often."

 

[Kyyrk]

Kyyrk felt her arm wrap around his waist, releasing a cloud of butterflies within his stomach as well. For a moment, it felt as though his breath would catch in his throat. But his training took over, slowing his breath and calming his heart. He was afraid the Minister may hear how fast it had truly been beating from her perch. His own hand moved from her shoulder blade to the space between her shoulders, just below her neck. It was a simple gesture, and yet it conveyed so much.

He held Alessandra close to him. A show of affection. He had grown rather fond of the Minister as of late. She was an unlikely friend, but a friend none the less. He thought back to that night several weeks ago when he had been tasked with reliving a multitude of memories. Memories from the most painful parts of his life. She had been the one to whom he turned for comfort. Even if she had no way of knowing. It was different when you knew you had something to come back to. Something to fight for. Sure, he'd once been a close confidant of the likes of the Exarchs and their Vicelord. But his relationship with them was...different. In truth, it was a far more broken man who had known them. A man who kept those he knew at arm's length. A man who'd learned not to love, to soften the pain of the inevitable loss.

This...this was something different. Something about the Minister made him not care if his flaws were laid bare. Perhaps his amnesia had erased the traumas of war that the Eternal Empire had left him with. All he knew was that this woman, resting in his arms, had just utterly destroyed the sole foundation upon which his views of the galaxy were based.

Peace is a lie.
​

In this moment, Kyyrk knew once and for all that the Sith were wrong. For in this moment, he was more at peace than he could ever remember being. Maybe peace WAS a lie. But it was a lie he was willing to let consume him. His arms wrapped around her also conveyed a willingness to protect her. Not only in the sense of his duty. But as a friend. And for a brief moment, he allowed himself to succumb to the same bubble that she had. He allowed himself to forget about the room full of people. She was all that mattered to him in that moment. He sighed deeply. Contentedly almost. His right hand rubbed her back gently, then offered a quick pat as he turned to look back around the ballroom once more. Ever vigilant, like a good little knight. "I think that's the first time I've sang anything since The War. The last I can remember was a lullaby. Singing my infant son to sleep on a dark and stormy night..."

The War. It was subtle. Indirect. But there was something in his tone that suggested specificity. He wasn't just talking about fighting in general. No, he spoke of a capital "w" War. Which one that might be? It was anyone's guess...

Alessandra Creed

 

[Vaylin]

Objective: Socialize
Wearing: Dress
Tags: Open | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

​

Vaylin's curious glance around resulted in nothing, so she turned back around to grab her drink. The glass was in her hand, brought to her lips as she began to take a sip. But then within that same moment…

“Darth Moirai!”

The Zabrak sputtered, almost spitting out her drink. Fortunately she was able to keep her dignity, albeit she began to choke and cough immediately after. She placed the glass back down, quickly turning around to face whoever had addressed her.

She felt fear as she turned, but it shifted into confusion when she laid eyes upon the young woman. It was not who she expected, and in turn was grateful she was wrong. Vaylin did not want to cause a scene if it had been a Sith who had approached.

Although the person before her was an enigma. The name didn’t ring a bell, but the titles; The First, Matriarch of the Valkyrja, those did. Even without the Force to guide her senses, there was no mistaking who stood before her.

“I don’t believe we ever got to formally meet, but I did hear of you and your kind from my subordinates.”

Shortly after Vaylin had ascended to Matriarch of the Sith Valkyries, she had learned of a new rising within the Netherworld. A whole brand new species that had seemingly born out of nowhere. The Valkyrja, a race and group that the Zabrak hadn’t the opportunity to personally meet before everything happened.

“Former subordinates, mind you. I’m not Darth Moirai anymore, just Vaylin.” She offered Eina a warm smile, before her gaze shifted over to her companion. “And who is this?” Vaylin asked, lowering a hand down to pet Kveld’s head, if he permitted it.

She did glance over at Eina though, when she mentioned the war situation. “What’s been going on with the war?” Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprising, Vaylin hadn’t kept a finger on the pulse when it came to the ongoing conflicts. After having spent so long doing that as a Sith.

 

[Cordelia Malkavian]

Behave...​

Tags: Rience ​

A soft, barely audible sound had parted Cordelia's lips at the retort she received to her initial question about the dance floor. It had caused her head to turn, to look upon the man at her side once again, and the smirk that lined her lips would by no means ever be classified as platonic. "I'm fairly certain any sort of untraditional dance would get us asked to leave, quickly." she mused to him, though the idea was never a bad one. Delia was never any help when it came to dabbling in guttural thoughts, if only because she supported them oh so very thoroughly.​

​

Though as the subject filtered to Delia's more delicate nature, the smirk upon her lips eased and her gaze tore slowly from his. "If I wanted your undivided attention Rience, I would not ask for it. Nor would I need to." she told him simply, and for the briefest moment there was a hint of fang in her smirk - or perhaps it was just a trick of the light. But when he motioned towards the floor, the redheaded woman nodded and she made way with him through the bodies until there was room found for the pair of them.​

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Delia's arms then shifted from his so that she could instead take up a proper dancing pose with him. "Are you sure you remember how to do this?" she teased him further and then stepped close to him in order to eliminate the unneeded space between them.​

​

 

[Taozi Fuyuan]

The polite wave of Trinity Harris did not go unnoticed, and Taozi turned her gaze to the scientist. She smiled softly and waved back, nodding in thanks. Words were... Annoying, at the moment. Besides, the professor was busy talking to other guests of the Empress, it'd be rude to intrude. Turning her attention back to the wider garden as a whole.

The mix of emotions she was feeling from those gathered was grating her nerves.

A feeling of annoyance caught her attention, curious as to who could feel so annoyed at a party. She could feel apprehension, nervousness, happiness... But annoyance? Turning her head to catch a glimpse of whoever it was, pink eyes settled on Aselia Verd stomping through the garden. It was almost amusing, seeing the other woman stomping along the path, then seemingly do a complete 180 in emotion. How... Interesting.

Taozi envied the other woman for being able to show her emotions so easily.

With a quiet sigh, Taozi relaxed in her seat on the bench. While the other woman was a curiosity, and she did want to know what could cause such annoyance, then a complete flip... Taozi was not as actively nosy as her mother. Though, she did look quite a bit like a certain president's daughter... Perhaps it was the ginger hair? Hm.

Realizing she was staring just a bit too much to be polite, Taozi looked away, hopefully before she was caught.

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Eina L’lerim-Vandiir, the First
Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic mascot and representative of the Ashlan Crusade
Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary; Liaison of the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild​

Location: Grjótharður, Vengard, Kalidan
Objective: Try to avoid the too awkward situations.
Equipment: Current form | Elegant attire || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Kveld
Tags:: Vaylin | Open

[ Hijo de la Luna ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

For Eina, there were still difficulties in interpreting or understanding human emotions at times. As she often said, everything is simpler on the battlefield where she doesn't have to deal with feelings. That's why she didn't really understand why Vajlin reacted the way she did. Maybe she scared her? In this case, there is usually a similar reaction. Through the Force, she felt fear and confusion for a few moments.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, I had no intention!" she said kindly, with a friendly smile, which might have been strange, as her voice was the same as Ingrid's, but strangers hadn't heard kindness many times from the Empress.

She watched with interest the zabrak as she was finally facing her. Former subordinates. Then that might have been the reason the woman was here; she also left the Sith Empire, Eina thought. In fact, she wasn’t particularly interested in Realspace’s political games, nor who was on which side. She even forgave the Darksiders and did the same when they were ready to change. But she condemned in the same way those of the Lightsiders who had committed the sins and held their deeds as the truth or they did in the name of religion. For Valkyrja, the side didn't matter.

"Oh, I see!" she answered. "In this case, Lady Vaylin, I'm glad we finally met in person!"

She looked at Kveld for a moment, and the wolf let Vaylin stroke his head. He also closed his eyes as a sign of his friendly behaviour and licked her hand if she let go.

"He is Kveld, companion of my mothe-… Lady Ingrid." she corrected herself while speaking. " They saved each other’s lives, and he’s been living here ever since. Friendly, smart, and intelligent." she explained.

She looked into the woman's eyes in surprise for a moment after the question. In this place, this question caught her off guard a little. She didn't even know what to answer. So instead of an actual answer, she answered with a question.

"Which one?" she asked in surprise.

Eina was involved in three places. One was the eternal struggle and war at home in the Netherworld against the demons, here in Realspace she supported the Eternal Empire as it was her duty; in addition, she supported Ashlan Crusade, but things were going as well as possible there as well. In every sense. She did not know how well it was known that the Eternal Empire was at war with the remnants of the Sith Empire and the Kainate. She didn't really care about politics, she just did her duties...

 

[Asaaj En Kelsani]

Location: Ballroom and Garden
Objective: Observe other guests and maybe talk
Equipment: Wearing this | Empyrean Gland | other items locked away
Tag: Open

So, she was here, her first foray into the social scene of the Eternal Empire. It was a celebration of the noble Empress of this power, ruling over the empire with grace and poise that would have made her well suited to rule on her own kingdom on Ubelixa should she have been born into a different life. This was also a personal celebration for Asaaj, she had recently made the rank of captain, and this was how she had managed to be invited to such an event, it had taken her eight years of hard work. Given her age and previous experience she likely could have simply offered herself as what she was and been granted higher command, but where was the honor in that. The Eternal Empire military interested her greatly and any command she had, she would earn with blood sweat and tears like any other commander her.

Asaaj looked around at the gathered dignitaries, everyone had made and effort tonight and looked splendid. This was the scene that Asaaj loved, mortals lived for such a short life, they absolutely should fill it with music, dancing and joy. She breathed in deeply and savoured the perfumes in the air, a mixture of musks, perfumes and other fragrances. She herself wore a beautiful dark red silken dress that shimmered as she walked. Her pale skin with tattoos that marked her Dathomiri heritage were on display and made her proud, she often could not wear her other heritage so openly so always leaned into her mothers side at events such as this.

Looking over, she considered presenting herself to the Empress, the red haired woman was beautiful and ageless, exuding an air of power that was appealing to Asaaj, but no, she had not earned the station yet to make such an approach, she tried to catch her eye and would nod respectfully as she crossed the room. Asaaj looked around for other that would be more appropriate for her to approach, she was hungry, she was due to feed tomorrow but displays of beautiful flesh all around was arousing her thirst more quickly. She smiled a the attractive you waitress that handed her a drink, if only she knew the thoughts currently running through her head as she watched her walk away.

​

 

[Diocletian Kahmen’’a]

Location: Grjótharður, Vengard, Kalidan
Objective: Be social and be nice!
Wearing: Link
Tags: Open

Diocletian grumpily waved away interested dance partners for the umpteenth time that night. He was not in the mood for dancing, so he stayed where he was at his table, the staff had put tiny tealights on the tables inside an ornate glass housing. Soft candlelight bathed the white cloth in an orange glow. As the light faded, the more they glowed.

The dancefloor was alive with dancers and those having a good time. Diocletian began to wonder if he should swallow his pride and just go and dance, it's not going to hurt his ego if he did. More interestingly he thought back to Rand, he often found himself doing so recently. He wondered about those he fought with. He suddenly shook his head, that was the past.

Besides since when did he care about anyone but himself? He wasn't going to start now. Eventually, he relented and joined a lady onto the dance floor to dance. He is a great dancer but chooses to be obstinate about wanting to do any dancing.

Besides, he can get what he wants if he is nice about it. So, he'll be nice, just for tonight at least. Then he can be as prickly as he wants afterwards.

 

[Uriel Segboldt]

“But of course, that is the great beauty of The Union! As these powers come together in solidarity, the competitive, beating heart of industry is preserved within the confines of the body of the state! In that each function, each organ and limb of the body works only to further their own self-interest. It is only through self-centeredness that– oh, just a moment, I’ve just seen my son; Uriel!”

Hearing his name from his father, the young officer knocked back a glass of spiced wine far too quickly. It was his first drink of the night, and it would be his last. Wishing he'd savored it a little more, he made his way to his father with a broad smile.

The ballroom was a picture of opulence, and filled to the brim with people Uriel had no business interacting with: leastways, not as a Warrant Officer. His rank wouldn't have been enough to land an assignment as an usher or security, let alone an invitation. But while "Uriel S., WO 4th Class" didn't belong on this ballroom floor, Uriel Segboldt was an honored guest here. Stifling as the last name could be, it had its perks.

“My son flies with the Empire’s Civil Aerialists,” Jonda bragged, looking up at his son with a look of pride and praise so powerful it was almost sickening. “Masters of Arcenon’s skies, one of the only fighter pilots cleared to fly within the capital’s airspace.”

We’re a bunch of glorified stuntmen. Uriel’s expression did not betray his cynical thoughts. For his part, he stood at attention and bore his father’s adulation courageously, trying to exude the cool professionalism expected of nobility within the Zweihander Union.

As his father prattled on and on, a musical voice glided creepily into Uriel’s ear. “I haven’t seen you dancing.”

She‘d gotten the drop on him, but Uriel hardly reacted; he was used to it. Remeera was always sneaking. “Hello, mother.”

“Honestly Y’Uri, there are enough lovely young women here to fill an opera hall. Can you honestly not find even one to dance with? People will think you’re no fun… or worse, think you’re a Warden!”

“I wasn’t aware Wardens weren’t permitted to dance.” The desire to roll his eyes was intense, as is the case for most young men forced to spend time with their parents in public. A raised eyebrow was all he allowed himself. “And please, mother, it‘s impolite to discuss the Wardens in public. In any case, I assure you I was just about to go and find a partner…”

”By which you mean sneak out to the gardens to brood.” Jonda had ceased waxing on about the virtues of the Zweihander Union to chime in, taking his wife’s arm and tutting annoyingly. “You’ve seen the stars before, son. Occular blazing across the night sky is a treat, but there are other ‘celestial bodies’ worthy of your attention.”

Okay, the eyes were rolling, this was not a drill. Remeera managed to stammer out “Jonda!” without giving in to the urge to laugh, which she was clearly fighting back with all her might. Honestly, Uriel couldn’t take them anywhere. Rounding on his parents with an indignant air, he hissed his words out low so that none else might hear and become affronted.

“I know you’re both anxious for me to date a noble, but if either of you had been paying any real attention, you’d know easily half the women in attendance swing the other way, and that’s not even the bulk of the issue. I had a chat with the lads on security tonight, they were showing off the guest list to me. I promise you, I’d rather fly through an asteroid field then ask for a dance. Every bombshell at this party is hiding fangs, not all of them metaphorically. The guests who could kill me where I stand far outnumber the guests who could not. Who should I approach first? An Obsidian Knight? A Light-Sith cyborg?”

He gestured casually about the ballroom as he whispered, as if remarking on how lovely everyone looked tonight. A warm smile hid the danger in his voice. “We’ve got assassins and spies, the Mandalorians made a showing- ope, see her? She once sat in council with the Twice-Emporer. There’s a Jedi, and a bioengineered super soldier, and do you know who slipped out to the garden a short while ago? The galactically infamous war-criminal and her niece! Apparently it’s the young lady’s high-society debut. Shall I just pop over to chat with the Talons, then?”

Jonda seemed to find his son’s hushed rant hysterical, while Remeera looked maybe a bit nervous at the very suggestion of bothering the Talons. Uriel raised his voice again, waving politely to one of his father’s investors as he did so. “I promise you both, if I’m asked to accompany anyone, I’ll be too frightened for my life to say ‘no’, but it’s hard enough explaining to people that you two very human-looking buffoons are parents to all of this exotic Chiss meat.”

And with that, he’d finally cracked his mum, and her laughter sent his father over the edge as well. The ball had perhaps started out a bit cold and a little awkward and kinda terrifying if you weren’t a badass space wizard, but it was genuinely nice to stand here and chuckle with his parents like this. Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Ingrid L'lerim Ave Imperatrix
Srina Talon Iuuna Talon Please don’t have me killed
Kyyrk Alessandra Creed Too cute, stahp.​

 

[Tovald Kahmen’’a]

Location: Grjótharður, Vengard, Kalidan
Objective: Enjoy the peace of the Garden
Wearing: Link
Tags: Trinity Harris Rath Nihro

Hopefully, the photos were clear and sharp enough for Trinity to use, he made sure to keep the camera focused and his fingers away from the lens. Even so, he can always take those that turned out wrong again. He had to keep himself from lingering too long on her leg, as it was rude to stare or linger too long.

Tovald fidgeted slightly, he was an awkward person, and he hardly had anything to say. He understood cats more than people. But he was glad he came here. He could only work for so long before that gets to him. He carefully picked up and moved a butterfly onto a flower. It had landed on his visor, obscuring his view slightly. Hands that swung a large lethal weapon, protected another Butterfly from a playful Loong Cat.

He then thought about Rath's question, he never lies and he is very open about his profession, well there are things he wouldn't tell obviously. That can stay a secret. He held a very affectionate Loong cat in one hand and scratched its ears with the other. The cat's content purring filled the air.

<"I am a Bounty Hunter/Mercenary, but not on a job right now."> He answers simply, placing the cat back into the flowerbed.

 

[Iuuna Talon]

v e n g a r d
Tag: Isley Verd | Darth Maliphant |
Dressed in: Silver with a Shawl
_________________________________________________________
​

"You are correct this is not Eshan, osellë-ressë," but she did tire of this event, Iuuna wanted nothing more than to leave. "It seems everyone here has something to do, and if there is no purpose for our being here. Then let us leave, we could pick up that sweet treat on Naboo and study fighting forms." Far removed was Iuuna from the intricacies of galactic politics. Her concerns surrounded her schooling and trying not to upset them even if she often rebelled and fled to other parts of Naboo. "Impression have already been formed, or so I sense."​

​

Ever one who felt the part of the empath, Iuuna could tell that there were certain feelings surrounding her aunt. "Perhaps," agreed Iuuna to a point, "still, you must know that these men would do your bidding. There is power in that, and that is what my mama mentioned." Aela was always the more observant of the two. Tellu was direct, and Aela would take the step back and examine the larger picture. "Meaning?" ​

​

The young Echani questioned, "meaning is nothing, anything can mean anything to anyone. It is all hallow, is it not?"​

​

"Or is this another lesson that I have not yet come to know?" Another inquiry as she tilted her head slightly, shifting her weight and then straightening out her shoulders. "Auntie, shall we go into the ballroom? Perhaps I can judge the poor fashion and footwork of those here." Iuuna suggested they go to the ballroom if for nothing else than to pick at the fashion of the night. "I see." Acknowledging that her auntie had used a euphemism of sorts. "Will you ascend to Matriarch then?"​

​

Aeris Talon was a woman who was not to be toyed with. Iuuna could admire the ice in her grandmother's veins now that she's had time to get to know the woman beyond her mother's tales. The younger woman was not aware of her mother's leanings the Netherworld did not care for the light or the dark, it just was. She watched her aunt, studied her expressions, and did her best to mirror them. "Even the calm will fade, it is a deception." She replied, "a deception of one's mortal coil." ​

​

"I have seen those who have escaped the Nether's clutches, but the Netherworld remembers. I can sense those with the Nether's touch, and it is an alluring thing." Iuuna was proof that the Nether couldn't hold anything down, but it didn't come without a price. "Then perhaps conflict should be allowed to flourish, the weak should perish and the strong will survive." Her words held nothing else but a cold truth. "There is only the strength of those who have the will and the passion to ensure their survival."​

​

Iuuna looked toward the ballroom and sighed, "we can perhaps examine those who might survive in such a conflict."​