Exodus Day [CIS & Allies]

[Scherezade deWinter]

Tag: [member="Curupira Hawk"]
Location: Some corridor or something I don't know, wherever Ruu took us.


She noticed the looks, the gestures, between the woman and Tacitus. She didn't care. If the woman was going to oppose her, to reject her, she still had all her knives under her clothes. She would use them. The Lupines did not scare her, not in that way. She would grab the wolf's ears if that was what she'd have to do, but she would be heard. The woman would listen. Scherezade was not going to let her off the hook, she would not-

Well.

That was easier than she thought it'd be. She had expected her to resist, not to just... Tell her to come with her. Scherezade took another swig from her bottle and followed the blonde woman. It was slower than she wanted to though. She couldn't really walk in a straight line.

But what was she doing? Why? Why had she approached Katrine's mother? What was wrong with her that she was taking active steps to take the daggers Katrine and Gerwald had placed in her heart and twist them around, making things worse for her? She'd had such wonderful grand plans. And now those plans were being lived by the very people she had waned to experience them with, only she wasn't part of it. She was alone. Outcast. Betrayed.

For a single heart beat, she almost turned around to leave. Let the woman stay there confused and wondering what that might have been about. Maybe just take one of the knives from her sleeves and stab her, cut her heart out, send it to Katrine in thirteen little pieces, setting a timer in advance so only one would show up on her doorstep every time. But ti was only for a single heart beat.

Instead, as the woman questioned who she was, what she wanted, why she'd said mother, Scherezade's eyes felt wet. She wasn't crying. She hoped that she wouldn't be either.

"To get your attention," she flung the words at her. "For a few short months that you knew nothing about, you were my mother, because Katrine adopted adopted me as her sister, and that made you my adoptive mother even if you couldn't bother to move your bony behind to acknowledge Katrine's existence."

That... That was a start. Scherezade took another swig from her bottle.

"I have been to your stupid mansion your stupid Lupine planet with your stupid family members," she continued, "I have seen your husband, or mate, or whatever the hell it is you call yourselves, and I have seen three of your children."

It hurt. It hurt so much to say it. Because Katrine had the family that Scherezade was never allowed to have. She had two out of three of her siblings, she had her father, she had people who loved and cared for her. And Scherezade had nothing. Nothing.

"But Katrine..." Scherezade resumed, "unless you made your existence known in the last week or so, has not seen you in years. How frakking dare you?! You are her mother! You are your children's' mother! I want to see you change into the wolf just so I could cut your ears off for abandoning them! And for what, for this? A stupid parade? The stuff that comes with the man who was standing next to you? You're a mother, for Force's sakes! Your daughter loves you and misses you! How dare you abandon her?! Do you think that just because she's advanced within the Confederacy, just because she's no longer possessed, just because she's the forcefriggin' Nightmother, she doesn't need her own mother anymore?!"

The words poured out of her. She couldn't stop them now even if she wanted to.

"I am a broken thing now, because of what Katrine did to me. I am not the happy kid with the big bright eyes and a hunger to taste what the 'verse has in store that I was until a few short weeks ago. And I don't know if I ever will be again. She might have not broken me if she had a mother to show her how to behave. But if there's one thing that I know, that I know for sure, would not only break me but outright kill me, it would be to know that my mother was alive and not trying to find me. You gave the right to behave like that up when you had children. You gave that right up with every additional child that you had. There are some things, woman, that you. Do. Not. Get. To. Choose."

She stopped for breath. Her volume had been growing, the energies she was pouring into the words taking more out of her than she thought was possible. Another swig. She needed more liquor in her body.

"So you are coming with me now and I am taking you to your daughter. She's still keeping a bunch of your clothes anyway so you'll want for nothing. You can stay in wolf form and not talk to me for the entire trip as far as I'm concerned, but we're going. I don't care what you have to say or think about it. I'm not even allowed on Ryloth and I'm still doing this. We're going now. This parade's importance pales in comparison to the importance of you meeting Katrine."

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Once [member="Jyoti Nooran"] and [member="Allyson Locke"] entered the Fortress of Solitude, she must have realized that the architecture gave a rather sinister look to the Fortress of Solitude. That its original architect likely must have been Xi Charrian or Ganathan; these two species were pretty heavy on the gothic architecture. Oh and she recognized [member="Darth Tacitus"] in the Hall of Shrouds even though Kainan Wolfe was perhaps a name she heard about from the Ord Radama era even though he wasn't on Ord Radama proper, alongside [member="Srina Talon"]. Where is Darth Metus? Usually, Metus isn't far behind Srina. Keep quiet until spoken to, she thought. As for [member="Aryn Teth"]? She never met him in person before... and neither she had [member="Kiso"], nor [member="Curupira Hawk"] or [member="Scherezade deWinter"]. And yet, [member="Asaraa Vaashe"], [member="Josh DragonsFlame"], to whom she taught Force-barrier/tutaminis and cryokinesis, and also [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] were close behind her, with [member="Noriko Ike"] and [member="Theodosius Organa"]. To think that the Shrouded Republic was brutal was child's play compared to the atrocities of the Sith or the First Order, or even the late GE, whose administration-in-exile, last she heard, fell back to First Order space given the rebellions springing up all over Imperial space.

 

[Frontier Tenacity]

​

Attn: [member="Curupira Hawk"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

• The Spire
  Fortress of Solitude, Nelvaan

The Fortress of Solitude was the governmental headquarters of a highly militarized nation which took security very seriously and the Spire at the fortress' center, atop which the Hall of Shrouds was located, was no exception, especially today, with so many important officials and guests visiting. As such, every corridor was monitored, every room was under surveillance and periodic patrols by Blackwatch troopers, made sure there were no intruders of commotions.

Thus, the deWinter girl's angry words have not gone unnoticed and a pair of patrolling secret policemen were immediately dispatch to check what that was all about. The bloated and paranoid organization that was the Blackwatch secret police, took its tasks very seriously.

The two armored soldiers strolled up to where the two women were having their argument, rifles in their hands, but with fingers off the triggers and the weapons held at a resting position, which was not unusual, as Blackwatch troopers were always armed while on duty. Now, they came upon a scene which they found disconcerting. Some drunken teenager was confronting the Overlord's apprentice, for some unknown reason which, to them, did not matter. This was an important day and embarrassing incidents such as this could not be allowed to occur.

The lead trooper walked up to Curupira Hawk and saluted in Shrouded Republic fashion, bumping his left fist over his heart, his eyes hidden by the eerily glowing optics of his helmet. "Is everything ok, ma'am?" the trooper asked, while his comrade stood nearby, ready to detain the drunken youth if she did not calm down.

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

"Mmmmmmmmph...."

The Jedi would fix up his robes as he would get to his feet, emitting a tired, sore groan from sleeping in an awkward position. Seems it was time to get up and go to this thingamabob. Somehow, this whole thing gave him a bad feeling. Like they were walking into a trap. Perhaps that was why he didn't seem as eager as he would normally be? Getting to meet new people was usually a fun thing, but something about this whole thing left Josh on edge. Perhaps their history spoke for it...

Soon enough, the Jedi were herded out and led to a group who he assumed were their hosts. Josh looked from one, to another, to another, first noting that [member="Aryn Teth"] might be a relative or something, that beard was too good to not be a DragonsFlame beard.

Speaking of relatives...

When he laid eyes on [member="Srina Talon"], while he could admit she was incredibly beautiful, something about her brought certain thoughts to his head. Thoughts that he learned over to whisper into the ear of [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] next to him before they would be in earshot of their hosts.

"That girl looks like the kind of person who is very close with her relatives"

On that note, somehow he could sense a familiar presence somewhere nearby, but also not in super close proximity... But he wasn't sure just what he was sensing.

[member="Allyson Locke"] - [member="Jyoti Nooran"] - [member="Srina Talon"] - [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] - [member="Curupira Hawk"] - [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] - [member="Darth Tacitus"] - [member="Kiso"] - [member="Theodosius Organa"] - [member="Noriko Ike"] - [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] - [member="Aryn Teth"] - [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[WelshPsych]

[member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Josh DragonsFlame"] | [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="STRATCOM"] | [member="Darth Tacitus"] | [member="Noriko Ike"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Theodosius Organa"]

As soon as the bay doors opened, Yuroic shot out of the ship with excuses of upset stomaches. Once in the bathroom, he pulled out a small supply of spice from the inner pocket of his jacket and took the entire supply of spice at once. Looking himself in the mirror, his eyes were bloodshot and he felt like chit but soon that would fade away, the screams, the bloodlust. They would all be silenced as he stared at his image. Waiting, impatience and fear kicked in, what if his dose wasn't enough? What if he needed more? He couldn't get any more with him without looking suspicious. It was hard enough hiding his addiction nowadays, though he somewhat doubted deep down that he was as subtle as he thought.

Sweet relief of worry finally kicked in. A daze of relaxation and mindnumbing glee filled his mind. Leaning on the sink, he let out a groan of satisfication. It was so good to have his mind quiet, peaceful as he waited for the initial high to pass. This event was somber and he couldn't walk around feeling giddy and high as a kite. Instead he splashed his face with water several times and breathing in heavily. It was time to return to the current event proceedings. As he stepped outside, he noticed that Josh was standing close with Asaraa, he ignore the brief hint of annoyance mixed with jealousy. He felt that he should be the closest person to her but he had to appreciate since his return he pushed all close family away, he was like fire, causing pain to those who got too close. Josh had taken over his mentorship of Asaraa, Yuroic had to accept that would have made them closer, possibly closer than he was with the Padawan.

There was Jyoti walking around with Allyson together, he found himself constantly being watched by Jyoti since he spotted her at the Jedi Temple years ago, there was something familiar about her but he dare not say. Mostly because what felt familiar about the woman was something impossible in his mind. Ruffling his short dark hair, he walked around building, now looking around it. Yuroic wondered when the event would be starting, he was feeling out of place, standing on his own. He didn't exactly know anyone outside the Silver Jedi, most of the faces were recognisable but still strangers.

 

[Asher Mossa]

Asher had decided he needed to make a presence at the social gathering the Confederacy was invited to. His inclination was to stay as far away from things like this as possible, simply because he disliked large crowds of people. However, [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] had told him he needed to forge a new destiny, and break his curse. That meant living as though he was not.

As always, Asher searched for @Eirene. The elusive blonde had managed to captivate him and steal his attention. She was the first woman he had wanted to even entertain the thoughts of moving past his wife. If he were honest, Asher wanted to make room in his life for her, his complicated life, thanks to what Lylek had done to him.

His bond with [member="Umai"] complicated his life. It was something Lylek had done because of the actions of [member="William the Bloody"], and while Asher had never wanted such a bond with anyone, he accepted what the spirit had done.

Asher was found with a drink in his hand. There was always something in his hand when he was around a crowd. He was not an alcoholic at all, but rather drink in his hand created a natural barrier. His hope was that he could move about on his own pace and in his own way, but Asher knew that was not a realistic explaination.

His eyes turned away from the crowds long enough to see [member="Srina Talon"] enter with [member="Aryn Teth"]. Her dress was simply unfair. Even though Asher had not been intimate with a woman since the passing of his wife, the man still had a good set of eyes and could notice and appreciate true beauty.

This was going to be a long night. He already knew.

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

Exodus Day. To Adron the holiday held no meaning as it was nothing more than a recurring ring in a sea of sound. He knew the Shrouded Republic held the holiday close as it's founding, yet the date was something completely different to Adron. It was a day of shame.

It was that day so many years ago that Adron Malvern failed from stopping The Dominion's fall into oblivion. No, he had delivered The Dominion to the doors of destruction and turned his back as it was swallowed by the unforgiving void.

Archlord.

The title was nearly foreign to his tongue. In the end it was one he had left in tarnish. Abandoned.

Adron found himself sitting silently within his shuttle, his mind having fallen far from his body as he recounted the fall of The Dominion and rise of The Shrouded Republic. To his side, [member="Alessandra Creed"] had joined him for the trip to Nelvaan. The icy planet was not a place he expected to be visiting in this lifetime or the next, however Adron was determined to end his decade long feud with Kainan. Killing the man had proved difficult in the past and now that they served the same government it was virtually impossible. Adron would abandon vengeance and turn towards a more promising path, however the same could not be said for the Overlord.

His deep blue eyes peered over to Alessandra as he arched a brow in curiosity. "Have you ever been to Nelvaan, Minister Creed?" he asked. Adron's tone was challenging and he emphasized the woman's title, as if it had now become more necessity of station than respect.

He had come to enjoy Alessandra's company in the days following his induction into the Confederate government. The woman had a certain whit that he had come to enjoy and compared to the rest of his colleagues she was a gift from The Force.

Realizing they were approaching their destination, Adron stood from his seat. He had chosen an intricate black and crimson suit, with a matching tie. Even the man's cane was a black walking stick with a crimson jewel adorning the peak.

Pausing for a moment to close his eyes, Adron could not believe what he was about to do. The last time he entered the host of the Shrouded he had attempted to kill Kainan, the result was the grotesque features he now sported. If the two ever did reconcile his differences Adron would be sure to prod about just what the hell had happened to the man.

Holding a hand out to Alessandra, he would allow a brief smile to come over his expression as he spoke. "Well. Let's see if I can make some friends?" He said, feeling the shuttle land on the platform with the slightest shift. "Did you ever hear about Krayiss II?" He prodded, glancing over to the shuttle's ramp as it lowered down onto the landing platform. "It marked the fall of The Dominion and the entire reason The Shrouded Republic exists." He stated with an almost proud expression. Better pride hide shame, than shame drag him down. "You see The Dominion was headed by an "Archlord" who oversaw all military and state action. He was a boy, not even in his twenties. No one really knows why The Dominion routinely entrusted their governance to young boys, however it was a damned notion from the beginning."

As they stepped onto the platform, Adron glanced over the Ultranauts who had been sent to escort the two of them. His hand wrapped around Alessandra's waist as he continued the story. "They fought the Sith for a few years, but when his planet fell he was crushed. A young Jedi, he fell to the Dark Side and devoted himself to destroying the Sith Empire. They say he was so ruled by his ambitions to destroy the Sith, he abandoned The Dominion during the Sith siege of Eol Sha."

"Anyway, after the Shrouded are the result of Tacitus. He pulled the failure that was The Dominion into something that could almost resemble success."

[member="Alessandra Creed"] [member="Darth Tacitus"]

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Fortress of Solitude [Meeting Hall]
Wearing: X and X
Standing Directly Beside: Aryn Teth, Darth Tacitus, Jyoti Nooran, Allyson Locke
Quote: "It is ironic, how we often forget the things worth remembering, but remember, the things worth forgetting."

​

If she noticed that her companion for the event was dressed like a heathen, truthfully, none would ever know. Srina had worked with enough smugglers and mercenaries over the years that it seemed commonplace. After all, Aryn was no longer the one that needed to be concerned with his image. The little Echani had been given the title of an ‘Exarch’ within the Confederacy and it seemed to hold an unnecessary amount of pomp and circumstance. It had taken her a fair amount of study, and questioning [member="Darth Metus"], for Srina to fully understand her role. Nevertheless, she adhered to what was demanded by their nation. If her Master willed it—so would it be.

Every time she heard of felt the self-pitying inclinations of the man beside her, however, she was hard pressed not shake Aryn senseless. He referred to himself as disgraced. He called himself the Commander of Ashes. The collapse of the Alliance had been a convoluted mess, spurred by deep-seated treachery, and the failings of many. The shoulders of one human man from Eriadu, no matter how broad, were not enough to hold that sort of weight. It never had been. The fall that everyone spoke of so reverently, so surprised in most circles, was little more than an inevitability. Srina dared not speak it, or think it too loudly, but it was hard truth.

Aryn Teth had been wavering from his golden path from the beginning. From the moment she saw him on Sullust, tinkering with a broken training droid, to the time they’d spent sorting his night terrors on his awful junk-ship… He’d held a certain flavor of darkness. It was a shadow. Just, a shadow. Even now she held a certain level of concern. Even now, after the worst was over, she feared it was only just beginning.

The gentle touch to her hand, the innocent kiss, mollified the sting of his forced smile. “Stop going to places I can’t follow.”, she warned him softly, but said little else on his distraction, as it was time to get moving. She could feel his paranoia as they entered the dark lit Fortress. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Did he not know that he was safe here? At her side—He always would be.

‘Careful. That statue may bite you.’

The mental words they traded back and forth, as easily as breathing, rang in her mind like the softest lullaby. At his irreverence toward [member="Darth Tacitus"], both by his informal greeting, and what he did not say aloud the slender Echani felt the smallest smirk break the porcelain of her face for a second. The former Commander was brash today. ‘Choose insulted. You’re amusing when you pretend to be angry.’

The Overlord returned her greeting and silver eyes fixated on his person as she drew herself from the light-hearted banter that had passed in the silence. She managed not to cringe at being referred to as ‘Lady’, however, her eyes did momentarily flicker at the term Supreme Commander. Srina squeezed Aryn’s arm a little tighter, willing him for now, to let it go. Kainan didn’t mean any harm. This was simply an important event to him, this day of remembrance, and everything that required formality would be done by the book. “Thank you. Are you faring well?”

It was a carefully worded question. She never wanted to make the Lord Admiral look weak, however, his state on Geonosis had left her with valid concerns. His hair was now as white as her own. Surely, someone else would notice the differences. The sound of rapidly approaching feet caused Srina to move off to the side. She was spoiled, for the most part, by stories of the Shrouded Republic but not everyone had that experience. Silver eyes swept over the forms of several Silver Jedi that made their approach and a pale smile swept across her features. “Hello, [member="Jyoti Nooran"].”, she breathed, almost kindly, before turning her focus to those that accompanied her. One of them [[member="Josh DragonsFlame"]] looked suspiciously similar to the man at her side. The resemblance was uncanny, almost, in the way that Echani had a habit of appearing almost identical. Did Aryn have a brother or an additional sibling she didn’t know about? “I am Srina Talon. Thank you all for attending. I hope that the honor guard have not startled anyone.”

It was then that she turned to see [member="Scherezade deWinter"] disappear with [member="Curupira Hawk"] and she felt a flicker of something that left cause for concern. There was always something with the green-eyed child. Whether or not she was actually capable of holding the title of an adult or not, despite her age, generally depended on her disposition. Regardless, if there was reason for alarm, she was certain that Darth Tacitus would not have let his Apprentice wander off alone. For now, she would wait and see. Intervene only if needed. Emotional squabbles were not her strong suit.

The Exarch of the Confederacy stood to the side to allow Kainan to take the floor. It mattered not what umbrella he took shelter from the rain beneath, merely, that this was his home. She could feel others from the Confederacy, such as [member="Asher Mossa"], and in the distance someone much more familiar making the approach. [member="Adron Malvern"]. He was the Minister of War, a nightmare with blood poison, and moreover, her friend.

Srina was glad to see so many familiar faces, even if, her expression remained that of ice. Now, if only her Master would learn to read his watch. Part of her wondered if she should have let her rabbits wake him to ensure he was truly in the waking world before leaving for Nelvaan.

At some point, she may need to step away to make a holo-call.

​

Spoiler

Tags: [member="Josh DragonsFlame"] | [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] | [member="Noriko Ike"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Asher Mossa"] | [member="Theodosius Organa"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Aryn Teth"]

 

[Curupira Hawk]

Attention. It was what she had wanted to gain with her words. Curupira blinked. Is there room for me? Her mind shot at the most random of thoughts as she stared at the unfamiliar girl. You can't silence the doubt in your mind, one of the voices reminded her. Again, random; again, loud. The title used on her had sent ripples of her confusion to her mind. The story began, the teenage looking girl telling her about a few short months in which she had been her mother. Eyes narrowed, stare continued. Curupira's mind was all over the place, she didn't always know how much time had passed since she'd snapped but she was sure she had never seen this girl. Not in her mind, not by her own eyes, not in any sort of dream.

Because Katrine adopted her as her sister. She blinked, her fingers had rolled back into her palms, forming fists. Her daughter. Her teenager, purple haired, medicine taking, voices talking daughter had adopted this girl as her sister. Even if you couldn't bother to move your bony behind to acknowledge Katrine's existence. Eyelids closed and stayed closed for a few moments. Look, Mommy, ka-boom, the sweet voice echoed into her mind, her daughter's voice as she handed her explosives already fired up. It had started her, unexpected as her sweet purple-haired daughter laughed as if she had handed her the sweetest bonbon in the galaxy. Her blood speaks our names, yet we have never had children. His words jumped into her mind. Curiosity killed the Nexu, you know. Chloe had been right. All that knowledge, all that presence. It had swelled her brain, snapped her mind.

And now... now, she was being told her daughter had taken someone close to her age, which seemed to give the stranger right to assume she knew anything about her.

The girl continued, talking about seeing her stupid mansion her stupid Lupine planet. She had seen Ket and she had seen three of her children. Curupira stared again. Three. Three times the failure, the voices reminded her. Chloe and Kat were the only children she had met. Katrine would mention other names but so far she had heard only one other. "Three?" She still found herself questioning, words rolling off her lips before she could stop herself. Curupira wanted to know. Why bother? You abandoned her. The voice poked at her as soon as she did. The girl continued, going back to Katrine, reminding her she hadn't seen her daughter in years. You are her mother! You are your childrens' mother! Was she though? Aren't you? The voice returned the question back at her. Curupira had wanted to speak to that but her lips, parted and ready to let words ago halted before a single sound escaped them.

I want to see you change into the wolf just so I could cut your ears off for abandoning them! The threat wasn't the issue in the slightest, the bit about work most certainly the issue. The teenage looking girl kept talking on about the parade, about her Master, reminding her again she was a Mother. Curupira remained perfectly still as the voice spoke over the voice from the outside, making her head incredibly busy. She had intended on interrupting her already when another shocker rolled off the girl's lips. Do you think that just because she's advanced within the Confederacy, just because she's no longer possessed, just because she's the forcefriggin' Nightmother, she doesn't need her own mother anymore?! She blinked. Again.

"I'm not a Lupine," Curupira took a moment to say before the words rolled back in her mind. Katrine was with the Confederacy. She wasn't possessed anymore. She was a Nightmother. There was so much in that that hadn't made sense, hadn't rung a single bell. Katrine grew with the stories of the first Confederacy, of Isley, of the Illuminati and the Templars. She had told her that. Even the ring she wore on her finger now was the same one her daughter wore on hers always. You gave it to me, Mommy! Katrine had told her when she had asked her about it but she didn't because she was still wearing it. They were the same ring though, right down to the tiny scratch to the side Curupira had accidentally caused a couple years back. Eyes lowered towards it now. She still didn't know why she wore it, why she never took it off.

More words came from outside, the girl talking about being broken because of what Katrine had done to her. It made Curupira look back at her. She was no longer a happy kid with big bright eyes and a hunger. She didn't know if she'd ever be that person again. Curupira wondered why Katrine was being blamed for this but only partially, recognizing something in those words. She was the big bright-eyed girl, eager for the adventures, eagers to have fun. She was a happy kid, a happy young woman who couldn't grow up. When she had tried, when she had tried to be a Mom for her grown-up daughters who still needed their Mother, she couldn't. She broken. You gave up the right to behave like that when you had children. You gave up that right up with every additional child that you had. Curupira stared again. The more she listened, the more she understood all her information from Katrine, her sweet child who couldn't always tell the difference from the future and the now. She couldn't always tell Curupira wasn't the Mother that had raised her, the time she had come to wasn't the time she had been raised in. Everything was so far away from that. This girl thought she was a Lupine. Katrine used to take pride in being a first born second born child of her and Ket, the first to be born after she had become a Lupine. She couldn't keep that form her even though she had tried so hard to give as little information as possible. She failed at every turn, forgetting what was present and what was future. Forgetting she wasn't her Mom. She was a child, with so much ahead of her before she would become her Mother. And evidently, this girl had heard all she did from Katrine.

At last, the girl said she was coming with her to see Katrine. You're too weak to face her, the voice tempted and teased her. She didn't respond right away, with the girl telling her Katrine still kept a lot of her clothes so she'd want for nothing. And she could stay in wolf form and not talk to her. She wasn't even allowed on Ryloth apparently...

They were quickly interrupted by one of the troopers, approaching them with a salute before she was asked if everything was alright. Her hand rose. "Wait," she told the trooper first, gaze shifting back to the girl. "I'm not a Lupine. I am not a Mother. I did not give birth to Chloe or Katrine. I met them in their late teens. And while I know my daughter has been through so much, she expects me to be the one that raised her and that isn't me. I don't know who you are but I'm sure if Kat accepted you into the family, she loves you," she responded, pausing only to inhale a breath. "My daughter forgets her times more often than not. She talks about me that gave birth to her, the one that raised her and that's not me. I'm only twenty-six years old. She's just turned twenty-one on Life Day, didn't she?" She knew. She remembered. She had even crafted a piece of jewelry which now stayed on her ship. She'd made something for her on every birthday, as she did for Chloe because Kat had told her when her eldest had her birthday as well. She'd never admit to it now, knowing full well she was as irresponsible as she had been but Curupira loved. She loved with a fire and devotion. She was protective, willing to kill to protect her own. If Katrine got that from anyone, she got it from her. But that didn't change the fact that Katrine was not born of her body and wouldn't be for so long. Neither was Chloe or their brothers. Ram and Seren, Kat would say, remembering she shouldn't give too much away. Now, she wondered if that had been right after what she had felt.

"I can recognize broken. Repairing what is broken takes so long. I don't know what Katrine did to you and I have a feeling you won't tell me," she wouldn't, she thought as she spoke. Curupira held secrets she never shared with anyone, not even her mate. Still... "I do know that despite her possession, my sweet purple haired girl couldn't betray someone she considered her family. But you're telling me she's changed, grown. A nightsister, at that. A nightmother." Curupira knew nothing of any other Nightclan. She knew only one. Them and the Spiderclan who had altered her future forever. Destroyed it and created it, all in a single day. Slavery, Seth, Ket... it was all because of them. That, however, didn't change the fact that she hated them for what they did to her family, her parents, selling her off. Everything had changed for the Singing Mountain Clan and the Hawks. All of them, in each of their ways. The family broke, shattered. It didn't repair even after all this time, not really. Whatever future Curupira would have had among the Witches was forever destroyed.

"And my name is Hawk. D'Arr Hawk because Kir D'Arr was my Father. My mate took my name, my children carry their Father's name in the same way I carry my Father's. I have never been nor will I ever be, legally, Van-Derveld Hawk," she finally added, the least relevant piece of information. Ket was Van-Derveld Hawk, Chloe, Kat, Ram and Seren as well. She was not. They were all Hawks. "Now, you can either stay here and tell me what it is that happened. You can stay here and attend the event or you will be escorted out of here. No harm will befall you only because you're a member of the Hawk family," Curupira laid out an alternative plan to what had been proposed. "As for Katrine, she can find me if she wants to. She has always been able to find me, no matter where I have gone in the time she had been with me." She had vanished, yes but just like the first time, her daughters had had a knack for finding her even when she didn't want to be found. It had been surprising when she hadn't found her when she had first run and Curupira had believed it was because Kat had given her the space because in their family, it was something that was done. Force knew Ket vanished all the time on her and yet always found his way back. He had even reached to her recently, the small window opened in their connection allowing her to see that their children were coming to him, felt Katrine's presence there even if she had remained undetected. They're fine, they're safe, she reminded herself again, reminding her of the pain she had felt that day. One of them wasn't. That one needed to be found. It wasn't Katrine though.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Darth Tacitus"]​

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: Walking to the Fortress
With: [member="Adron Malvern"]
Wearing: This

The Minister of Commerce sat, as she often did, tucked into the side of the Minister of War. It was an interesting dichotomy and a faux pas to be certain as far as their duties were concerned, but Alessandra Creed was a wicked taskmaster, and kept the most spotless of records. For whatever unspoken enthrallment she seemed to have with the former Imperial, and he with her, they managed to perform their duties without flaw. Part of her felt a stark sense of misbegotten pride for the Serenno man.

She held on to her grievances. Alessandra nursed them, raised them, and added every good grudge to an excellently vile collection. Here he was, trying to bury the hatchet, from what she understood to be years of cultivated resentment. A rather vivacious smirk played across crimson lips and she laughed lightly when asked if she had ever been to Nelvaan. “Believe me, Minister Malvern, were it not for you I would never visit somewhere so inhospitable.”

“Duty be damned.”

Alessandra was not a fan of the cold. That was part of the reason that she hadn’t moved from beside Adron, despite the outerwear she had donned for warmth, and the heat of the shuttle. She was freezing to the point in which delicate shudders periodically ran through her slight frame. Her fellow Minister stood and she uncomfortably took the hand that offered, her movements far less sophisticated than usual, and she let him pull her up. Unthinkingly, she had not used much of her own strength to help, more than anything wanting to curl in on herself until the chill went away. Adron would notice the difference. She was half-epicanthix and far, far heavier than she looked.

He mentioned making friends and the raven-haired beauty smiled, despite herself, while also starting to look out the window. “If you’re trying to make more friends we should have brought more droids. Maybe a few low-level Knights. More cannon fodder.”

She was teasing. Partially. This had the potential to go very badly.

The caramel skinned woman let her hand remain where it was. Slim fingers, nearly purplish blue at the tips, wrapping neatly around his. He asked her of Krayiss II and she shook her head slowly. She did not know the details of the fall of the Dominion. She had heard, more than once, about the penchant for stupid decisions the leadership of that era had a habit of making but it had never really held any impact for her. As they walked, his arm wrapped around her waist, and sighed gratefully, pleased by his warmth and protection from the elements.

This planet was hell. The Confederacy had HUNDREDS of planets at their disposal and yet [member="Darth Tacitus"] had chosen the one that seemed specifically designed to kill her. Why? The Minister paid no mind to the Ultranauts that escorted them from the shuttle to the Fortress itself. They were terrifying, certainly, but they interested Alessandra just about as much as the snow. They didn’t. Instead, she focused on the sound of Adron’s voice, and tried, ever so hard not to let her teeth chatter.

Chocolate eyes, flicked with cinnamon, saw clearly through the haze of what it was that her companion did not say. Briefly, she stopped, so that she could look at his face. He never lied to her. Even sometimes when she wished he would. “What was the boy’s name?”

Hearing that Tacitus had almost managed to make something viable out of the remnants of the Dominion caused a sigh to escape her. Looking around, both at the nigh demonic architecture, and blood red swaths of fabric clinging to their holdings as the wind threatened to steal them—she was not yet impressed. This place was a terror. Alessandra loved rules. She loved punctuality, formality, and everything else in-between. The Shrouded Republic took it too far. “Unfortunately, Minister Malvern, almost only counts when it comes to hand grenades.”

A nation was either successful or it was not. Since they had found themselves under the protection of the Vicelord after the fall of the Eye—Alessandra, business-minded and shrewd, could only assume it was not. She paused when she realized the possibility of insensitivity. This was why she dealt with numbers and shuffled contracts. Her opinion on the public could be harsh and demanding when that course of action was not necessarily the Confederate way. Any loss was a learning experience. Alessandra simply hadn’t been raised like that and on occasion, she slipped up.

“Forgive me. Where I come from, when you win, you win. When you lose, you lose.”

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Tag: [member="Curupira Hawk"]
Location: Some corridor or something I don't know, wherever Ruu took us, with [member="Darth Tacitus"] 's guards next to us.

Guards had shown up. Why would guards shown up? Scherezade hadn't pulled a weapon, hadn't used the Force to attack anyone. Why were there guards here? She hadn't done anything wrong. And it was more than apparent, with only one question being uttered, that if something happened, she would be the one to bear the blame. It was agonizing. It wasn't she who was in the wrong, it was that woman, Katrine's mother. Her mind reeled, trying to find a way to get out of there unscathed, because she knew, she just knew, she was going to get shot at. She could survive these two, but outside of this hall, there was an entire military parade. Even in her drunken state, she knew her limits. But the woman told them to wait, taking Scherezade by surprise. So she wasn't going to get shot now? What was even happening?

She took another gulp from her liquor as the woman began to speak, and she made absolutely no sense. Se claimed she was not a mother, but she knew the names of her daughters, she even called them her daughters. How could someone who was a mother do something as horrible as that? She wanted to punch her right in that pretty face of hers, hear the bones break on contact with her fist. This woman was horrible. Horrible the way Katrine was horrible. Making up the stupidest excuses. Telling her that Katrine could find her. No. That wasn't the point. That had never been the point, and it was an outright lie, because if Katrine could've found her mother whenever she wanted to, she would not have spent so many years apart.

Her mind was all over the place. None of this made sense. It didn't make sense that she was even here, talking to this stupid woman who claimed to not be a mother, claimed to not be a Lupine, claimed so much bantha poodoo that she could almost smell it. It didn't make sense that she was trying to convince this woman to go to her daughter, when her daughter had broken Scherezade and Scherezade never wanted to have anything to do with her ever again. It didn't make sense that she was fighting so hard for this, almost crying, probably garnering more of the negative attention that seemed to just follow her around because she breathed. It didn't make sense that she wanted this woman to go to her daughter.

Scherezade wanted to leave. Coming here had been a bad choice. Getting off the shuttle had been a bad choice. Talking to this bytch had been a bad choice. Her entire life was a quilt of bad choices. She should have stayed put inside that pebble. She didn't have the tools or the means to handle any of what was happening outside of it. No wonder she was broken, no wonder she broken so easily because of the promise of a man and the betrayal of him and her sister. Other people probably knew how to shrug such things off. She didn't get to. She was never going to get to. It was always going to be other people. It was always going to be other people who came first, who got what they wanted. She was forever going to remain in the Darknes, even if she was outside of it.

"She's not purple haired," her voice came out. Small, close to a whisper. "She's a blonde. Like you. Though not from a two credit pharmacy bottle."

She hoped the salt toss would hurt the woman. She didn't think it actually would.

"And you're lying," continued the words, "she did betray me. And you're right, I don't want to talk about it. That is not the point of why I approached you. I don't care about the age differences between the two of you, time was never linear where I'm from. I'm over five hundred years old but you're looking at me like I'm some stupid kid who has no idea what she's talking about. And you're wrong. You're so very, very wrong. You can't say you're not her mother, then call her daughter, pretend you know nothing about her, then make claims like that. Just listen to yourself."

She'd said the word. Claim. It didn't matter that the context was different than the one in which the word had hurt her, split her, broken her, burned her. Just hearing it brought on a new wave of pain. She wanted it to stop. She just wanted to stop hurting, to stop feeling. The water wasn't just in her eyes now. There were tears rolling down her cheeks. She hated it. She hated them all for doing this to her. She hated this woman too.

"And she can't find you," Scherezade continued, the words spilling out of her mouth, "if she could find you so easily, do you really think it would've been years since the last time she saw you? Really? Her own mother? And even if she could, it's not her responsibility. It's yours. You're the mother. Whatever other poodoo you think has or hasn't happened, you're her mother. You're the one that needs to go to her, to hold her, to hug her, to kiss her forehead." In the way that my own mother can't.

She didn't want to talk anymore. She didn't want to keep communicating with this horrible, child abandoning woman. She didn't want to hear another word the liar had to say, the manipulations she would try to wreak.

"And I don't belong to the Hawk family. I've never truly belonged to the family, and I never will. But I'll be damned if I'm going to stand here and listen to you poodoo your way out of this. Just come with me. Please. I promise, I'll take you back after a few hours," why?! Why was she still insisting?! Why couldn't she just let this woman go, or slam this woman's head into the wall, or cut her up! She was crying now, big ugly tears, big ugly sobs, the whole whaling and bad breathing and face puffing up. "Please," she was begging now, "please, just come with me to see Katrine. And you'll never have to see or hear from me again. Please... Please, I promise, let's just go."

 

[Theodosius Organa]

The Kashi Mystic did not rush to get up. Nor did he rush out of the transport. He just casually followed the Silvers out of the transport. There was no rush in his mind. There was still going to be plenty of people to talk to.

Walking down the ramp The Mystic stopped just short of the end of the ramp. He took in his environment for just a small moment then took a couple of step down off the ramp.

Now with his feet upon firm ground The Lost Prince of Alderaan knelt down and placed his hand upon the ground. To the casual onlooker this may have looked odd. Those attuned with the Force could sense the man was communing with the stone.

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

The group would greet another lot, who while Josh had thought them to be their hosts, some seemed just as uncomfortable in this location as they were. It seemed to be giving everyone chills. If they were not the hosts, then who were? He was confused in that moment, and looked toward [member="Jyoti Nooran"] a moment as though to indicate he wanted to question her, wanted to get more information and be in the loop on this nonsense, but there wasn't a moment for it right now. Either way, he still couldn't get over that one guy's [Aryn Teth] awesome beard. Would look better with longer hair like his though. Some hairstyles just look better on some people, he supposed. His girlfriend was cute too, though he wondered if their relationship was open. He wasn't sure why he thought that, though.

Somehow he had this distinct impression that some junkie [Yuroic Xeraic] was glaring at the back of his head. He used to get glared at by junkies pretty often on the street back on Coruscant and one once threw a used syringe at him. He didn't think junkies were allowed in this place, but considering he could sense the stink of the dark side, and a large cloud of it at that, the standard probably wasn't very high.

Regardless, the two groups would intercede, and introductions were given. The Jedi would step forward, and give a polite bow. "Josh DragonsFlame. It is an honour to make acquaintance with you all" He would greet calmly. The urge to ask "So, what the hell is going on?" was strong, but he kept it to himself. But something in that moment hit him like a truck.

Pain.

That familiar presence was back, and now this time he recognized it. Pain. It radiated throughout the building, and he could sense it in full. Pain, overwhelming pain. He found himself wanting to run to it, wanting to stop whatever was causing this overwhelming sorrow. It was in his nature to want to stop this sort of thing if he could, but considering he couldn't just run off, he kept that too, to himself. Whatever was causing his pain and sorrow, regardless, he felt no signs of a battle. It was something that was not his business.

And yet it didn't stop his own sorrow. He felt useless, helpless. He wanted to do something, but he knew deep down he couldn't.

And feeling useless was a feeling he loathed so much.

The Jedi would divert his eyes as he let the others make their introductions, doing his best not to make his condition visible. He did not want to seem visibly upset to their new acquaintances, and risk them misunderstanding and being offended thinking he felt any sort of ill will toward them.

[member="Allyson Locke"] - [member="Jyoti Nooran"] - [member="Srina Talon"] - [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] - [member="Curupira Hawk"] - [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] - [member="Darth Tacitus"] - [member="Kiso"] - [member="Theodosius Organa"] - [member="Noriko Ike"] - [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] - [member="Aryn Teth"] - [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Malok]

[member="Darth Tacitus"] | [member="Srina Talon"]​

When the Sith told [member="Srina Talon"] of her new position, she simply shook her head. In his eyes, she had already been fulfilling the mantle of Exarch many times over. She maintained relations with the Alliance, Silver Jedi, and Ancient Eye effortlessly. She went where the Vicelord could not and represented him flawlessly. In all matters, she was his second - and now, the nation regarded this in an official manner. Of course, with such declarations came the necessary bureacracies. She was given new clearances, a tangible salary - and above all, access the High Command.

This was a channel maintained by only a handful of individuals. [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], Nightmother of the Mandragora, [member="Darth Tacitus"], Lord of Admirals, the Vicelord himself, and now Srina Talon his Exarch.

For the most part, High Command was quiet and was only utilized in high priority situations. In fact, the last time that Darth Metus had said anything in this particular network was when the decision had been made to march against Tatooine. But in this moment, the channel went live and notifications would sound for the Echani, as well as the Undying Admiral.

-- | Message Origin: Sector V,49 | --
Dread Fleet is currently engaging Imperial, border forces.
Dread Fleet was intercepted, en route to Sector U,49
-- | Message will repeat | --​

​

It was moments like these why the mantle of Exarch existed. Srina could stand in place of the Vicelord when he could not be in two places at once. Her presence, grace, and authority would be more than enough to stand in the gap for his absence. And, if all went well, Darth Metus personally estimated that he might be able to catch the evening portion of the Gala. But, for the time being, his focus was exactly where it should be - burying the unforeseen traffic stop on the way to the party.

 

[Kiso]

Kiso for the most part just stood to the side as more and more people arrived, she was honestly surprised by how many people from the Silver Jedi seemed to be coming, her cybernetic systems running through data banks identifying each person. Several master, higher ups, quite a lot of the SJO leaders had attended this 'celebration' of sorts. It was honesty a little strange, more so with how few CIS personal had arrived, along with former Shrouded Republic members.

What had happened to the force users among the Ancient Eye? what happened ti PAC ops and other member? had they died when the Silver Jedi attacked? had they gone their own way? She had surely missed a lot since surrendering to the Silver Jedi a while back, but so few people remained of the once proud and strong nation. Though it was not to be a surprised, from their first attack on the Jedi controlled world Kiso had a feeling things would go south very quickly, it was only a matter of time.

Looking around she saw people like [member="Josh DragonsFlame"] make rounds on introduction, [member="Adron Malvern"] funnily enough of all people and much more, all Kiso could hope was that not attention was directed towards herself. Politics and similar events where never really her expertise after all.

 

[Curupira Hawk]

Not purple-haired, the words suddenly registered in her mind. Blond. Like you. She blinked and stare one more time. Her daughter wasn't blonde. She was purple-haired. Just as Chloe had light brown hair. Though not from a two credit pharmacy bottle. Curupira didn't react tot he dye comment, it didn't really affect her too much. She knew her color was fake though she hadn't expected to find out that she had the same color as her daughter had. Sapphire eyes and blonde hair, she realized. Her Father's daughter, isn't she? The voice toyed with her.

Was she lying? The girl talked about how Katrine had betrayed her. She wasn't listening to her, she thought. The Katrine she knew wouldn't have harmed her but the girl was speaking of a whole other Kat. Not even purple-haired, not possessed, a Nighsister. It sounded like a completely different person, not the girl she had walked out on. She did, however, reveal about time not being linear. She was over five hundred years old and Curupira was apparently looking at her like some sort of stupid kid who had no idea what she was talking about. Ruu hadn't done. Not for a moment. Whatever adult she had been faced in her teens, Curupira was never treated as such nor could she do so to another. Underage or not, they all possessed an incredible freedom in their life, choices to make to survive and live. On Dathomir, they were adults as well. Was Satara not a Clan since she was a teenager due to the circumstances? Did Seth not leave her behind when he left once she had become a teenager, knowing full well she could fend for herself.

The girl was talking about being wrong as well. That she couldn't say she was not her Mother and call her daughter.

"I'm not looking at you like you're some sort of stupid kid," Curupira interrupted then. "I'm looking at you the same I would look to anyone who would approach me to preach at me as if they knew the first thing about my life." She didn't. Not the first thing. Hearing stories from a daughter who had come to her when she did, troubled the way she was, wanting her to be something she was not... it was but a tip of the iceberg. "And I'm not her mother but I don't deny she has my blood. She is my daughter, she will be born of my flesh." The fact that it wouldn't be the same flesh as she wasn't Lupine yet didn't matter. The fact remained, it was accepted. She would be Katrine's Mother some day. She just wasn't now.

There was a resolve in the girl as she insisted Katrine couldn't find her. Furthermore, she wasn't the one who was supposed to find her. You're the one that needs to go to her, to hold her, to hug her, to kiss her forehead. She froze. She doesn't know, does she? The voice shot at her. She doesn't know the truth, does she? And continued. "I'm not." Curupira's voice was barely a whisper. It was the bitter and sad truth, one Curupira never wanted to think about. She remembered those times. The young, the lack of a Mother and Father. The way she would scream when she was touched. Curupira's issues arrived from the pain and servitude. She had been beaten and abused in the mines, losing ties to reality and the days or nights. She couldn't tell what was up or down, who she was. By the time she had been freed, she could hardly even remember her own name. There were nightmares that followed and a hardship in bonding with Seth despite her initial tag along. She had still needed so much time to allow him to come near. He wasn't too different than she was though and he understood. But Curupira never had issues with those she recognized from before the servitude. She had allowed Satara into her space even when she hadn't recognized her. It had been an important clue.

Katrine, despite where she couldn't tell the difference between now and later, still knew on some level what the truth was. Enough for her not to allow her near. Curupira had never held her, hugged her or kissed her forehead. The most she had been permitted was the hand touch and it was Katrine who had reached out for her. "Don't you know? Even if her mind can't always tell me apart from her real Mother, there are levels on which she knows, where she can tell us apart. I've never hugged her or held her, nor have I been permitted to kiss her forehead. Her issues with personal space are far worse than they have ever been for me." There was a defeat in her voice. It had raised red flags in her mind early one as she had tried. Katrine was saying one thing but not allowing her near even when they were together. Then there were the things she wished to say but withheld, as if she was holding some deep secret from her, saying she didn't want her to know the answer. The answer which her mother knew.

And I don't belong to the Hawk family, the girl continued. She could have said what she wanted, she had already admitted to being accepted by Katrine. Curupira would respect that and not allow for her to be harmed by the trooper. She also didn't want to hear her poodoo her way out of this. She wasn't demanding though anymore, she was pleading and promising she would bring her back in a few hours. Pleading still. And then she would never see or hear from her again. "You don't see it, don't you?" She was quiet still, golden gaze focused on her only. "I'm not the Mother she needs. I've never been. I'm a poor substitute for the woman she wants. I've never been ready to be her Mother and she's always known, on some level. They all deserve better." They deserved the woman who had raised them, the one that had taught them, trained them. The one who knew how to approach them. Curupira didn't know how to break through their walls. Chloe had disappeared because she hadn't been enough. Katrine had stayed, she had tried to find her but the way she had rejected her told her she knew. Curupira had had seen it in the way she was with Ket. His gift to see beyond the present, to recognize his own flesh in an instant. Of course, she saw him differently than she did her.

They all deserve better, the voice repeated. A better mother you could be. Even the voices knew. The problem with the voice was that it didn't speak the truth, it affirmed her doubts. Curupira though had always known why she had run. She couldn't be who should have been to either of them.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Darth Tacitus"]​

 

[Adron Malvern]

The cold winds of Nelvaan were harsh and flowed over Adron with a deadly chill. In many ways it reminded Adron of the mountains he had grown up in, He almost welcomed it for the brief moment he was allowed to reflect. However when Alessandra stopped Adron's blue eyes peered down at the woman with an interested gaze. "You know his name." He didn't have to say it. He had already said it and now there would be nothing to gain from speaking his name. As they continued down the wrathful halls, Adron listened to Alessandra's retort with a slight smile coming to his face. She was right, of course, however even Adron did not believe that you could always win.

It was not long before the two found themselves staring before the main door to the meeting hall. Their deathly guard came to a halt as Adron paused his own steps. He kept a hand around Alessandra's waist as his other hand was clasped around the peak of his walking staff. "Well. Let's make an appearance."

The doors to the main hall were opened to reveal the guests who had already arrived for the event. There were more than just Confederate representatives in the hall. His eyes could befall the faces of Silver Jedi scattered about. Their presence forced a brief exhale before he looked to Alessandra and spoke once again. "How many faces do you recognize?" Adron asked, gesturing around the room.

[member="Alessandra Creed"] [member="Darth Tacitus"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Tag: [member="Curupira Hawk"]
Location: Some corridor or something I don't know, wherever Ruu took us, with [member="Darth Tacitus"] 's guards next to us.


There were things she wanted to say. There were so many things she wanted to say, the point out, to prove this dumb bytch how wrong she was, about everything. To tell her how stupid she was being, how destructive her lack of action was. A small voice in the back of her mind tried to point out that Scherezade might as well have been talking to the mirror and expect the same effect, but she shut the voice up with another gulp from her drink. It wasn't about her. It was never about her. She was the one on the special bus while everyone else got the VIP ride. It wasn't even allowed to be about her.

And then the woman said the one thing that shattered her more.

"I'm not the Mother she needs. I've never been. I'm a poor substitute for the woman she wants. I've never been ready to be her Mother and she's always known, on some level. They all deserve better."​

​

​

"No," Scherezade whispered, taking a step back. Whirlwinds, fires, floods, it all washed through her insides. "No..." she whispered again. She could hear her insides cracking, bending, breaking like the weakest of glass and cheap plastic.

She swaggered another step back and turned around. She didn't want to scream, but the scream was stronger than she was. Everything was stronger than she was. It erupted from her, aided by the Force, continuing to come out even when she covered her mouth with her hands, willing it to stop, unable to make it stop. She had never screamed this hard before, the ground beneath her feet shaking in response to the sound waves erupting from her.

Scherezade fell to her knees, still screaming. She could feel the pain going through her body, phantom pains running down her back where only a week ago she had skinned herself. Phantom pains running through her hands, which she had broken on purpose several times since coming of the Darkness. Her body was intact now, but the pain still ripped through her, forcing the pain out through her mouth.

Her hand wanted to go up. Up, in front of her face. The bottle was still in it. The bottle stopped being in it as black smoke erupted from it and the bottle became the Sword of Darkness. No. No no no no no. She had to stop. She had to stop the screaming, she had to stop the Sword of Darkness from being in her hands.

Scherezade threw herself backwards, flinging the sword out of her hands. It turned into the bottle again and fall on the ground, glass exploding everywhere. Only then did it stop. Only then did blissful silence come her mouth. Only then did the ground stop shaking.

Emerald eyes rimmed with red stared at the woman with golden eyes.

"That's not a choice you get to make," she said again, her voice harsh, broken, reflecting her insides, "let me take you to her and let her choose. There are no perfect mothers. But there is no forgiveness for mothers who choose to stay away from their children. Go to her, talk to her, tell her for how long you'll be gone. Talk to her."

Why? Why was she fighting this woman so hard? Why was she doing that to herself? Katrine didn't deserve her mother. Katrine deserved nothing after what she'd done to Scherezade. And still she could not stop herself, could not stop the tears, the snot, anything.

It took all the remains of energy she had to get up, force herself on her legs. She wanted to take another sip from her drink but it was gone now.

"Please..." she begged again.

Tags for people I think are around and would feel the Force Scream

[member="Allyson Locke"] - [member="Jyoti Nooran"] - [member="Srina Talon"] - [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] - [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] - [member="Darth Tacitus"] - [member="Kiso"] - [member="Theodosius Organa"] - [member="Noriko Ike"] - [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] - [member="Aryn Teth"] - [member="Josh DragonsFlame"] - [member="Adron Malvern"] - [member="Asher Mossa"] - anyone else I might have missed

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

That ear-piercing scream that resounded all through the building made up his mind.

He doubted anyone in the room hadn't heard that, nor felt that. The swelling presence of pain, suffering, torment, anger, so many swelling emotions, and all in a presence that he'd gotten to know on a mission before. When his ears stopped swelling from the sheer force of the Force Scream, despite the fact they were still ringing, Josh would be able to trace it's source fairly easily with the output. Looking around to ensure the welfare of the others in the room, Josh placed a hand on the shoulder of [member="Jyoti Nooran"], his expression all business. While he had a personal interest in the matter, the fact was that it was indicated there was a fight going on in the building, one that could put them in danger. Being the Order's Battlemaster, he felt he could be trusted to handle matters of danger if they came along.

"I have this."

Not that he was saying not to back him up, but if at least one person was going to go, it was going to be him. It mattered not if anyone accompanied him, he had a job to do with members of the Order of differing rank being here, Padawans included. Some being his own. Protecting them was in a way his responsibility in times like these.

But he also refused to be helpless, or useless, anymore.

Adjusting his lightsaber on his belt so he immediately knew where it was if he needed it, the Jedi Master would take a deep breath and activate Force Speed, taking off at a run as fast as he could go toward the source of the presence.

Josh would find [member="Scherezade deWinter"] lying in a heap, in a pool of tears, at the center of the destruction. He noticed another woman, [member="Curupira Hawk"] and he would find himself staring a hole through her warily as he would approach Scherezade, kneeling down to gently wrap his arms around her, leaning over to whisper into her ear.

"Shh... Hey... It's okay... I'm here..." Josh would reassure her quietly as he would rock her side to side a bit. "It's gonna be okay... You're gonna be okay... What's happened?"

As far as he knew, a battle had ensued, and the whole time, he continued to stare down [member="Curupira Hawk"] as if he expected her to make a move. His battling instincts were in full throttle in that moment, and his gaze was ice cold.

[member="Allyson Locke"] - [member="Jyoti Nooran"] - [member="Srina Talon"] - [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] - [member="Curupira Hawk"] - [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] - [member="Darth Tacitus"] - [member="Kiso"] - [member="Theodosius Organa"] - [member="Noriko Ike"] - [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] - [member="Aryn Teth"] - [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

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Attn: [member="Amethyst Atreides"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Curupira Hawk"] | [member="Lorelai Ventira"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Alessandra Creed"] | [member="Noriko Ike"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="Kiso"] | [member="Theodosius Organa"] | [member="Josh DragonsFlame"]​

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• Hall of Shrouds
  Fortress of Solitude, Nelvaan

Srina's concern for his wellbeing, was something that the Overlord had grown accustomed to, lately. The two were close friends who had been through much together and he understood all the hidden layers beneath her question, even if her question had been rather vague and formal, as dictated by protocol, on such an occasion. He responded in a similar manner. "The Nelvaanian natives have responded well to our government. Their respect for honor and hard work, is something that we can relate to and we are certainly getting along with them much better than we did with the religious fanatics on Nibelungen," he said. "Overall, I would say we are doing well, aside from the challenges of industrializing a virgin world, but these are just logistical issues that will be overcome."

What the Overlord had said, was true. In the relatively short amount of time since the Shrouded Republic had taken over the government of Nelvaan, the icy world had undergone a dramatic transformation. Primitive villages were swiftly being replaced by cities. Schools and factories were now standing where once there was nothing but huts and emptiness and the native Nelvaanians were responding well, as shown by the rapidly swelling number of recruits who were volunteering for service in the military. At this rate, within a decade Nelvaan would become one of the most heavily militarized planets in the galaxy, who's army would give even the most powerful enemies of the Confederacy a pause for thought.

The Overlord would have enjoyed to spend more time engaging in idle chat with Srina and her companion, but he could not insult the other guests by ignoring them. There would be plenty of time for more casual conversation at the banquet, after the military parade. So his attention now turned to the other guests.

"Master Nooran," the Overlord addressed the leader of the Silver Jedi delegation. They had been partly responsible for what had happened on Nibelungen, having supported several of the insurgencies that had contributed to the Ancient Eye's collapse. So, Tacitus wanted them here, to put them face to face with the consequences of their actions. He would make sure to include mention of those who died during the Ancient Eye's collapse and the violent insurgency of a reborn Hand of Light, in his speech at the parade.

The Jedi would have to live with all of those deaths on their precious conscience, knowing that they would have been prevented if they would have simply chosen not to get involved and allowed him to do what was necessary to restore and maintain order. The number of casualties was be much higher than they would be expecting and he hoped that its revelation would serve as a lesson, a painful reminder that the Jedi way was not always the right one and that sometimes, harsh decisions had to be made by those in power, to steer a planet towards the course with the least amount of casualties.

"Despite our previous differences, I welcome you and your compatriots here, within these halls. Your people had fought and bled for the Dominion as well and their sacrifice should be remembered and honored, regardless of our ideological disagreements," he said, addressing the Silver Jedi delegation.

His attention shifted once more, even as he smiled inwardly as the secret message from the Vicelord was received. Metus' absence could not be blamed, as his fleet was busy killing imperials. It was, in a sense, a fitting way to honor those who died by imperial hands, Confederate and Dominion alike. "And I see General Kiso amongst us," he announced, the soldiers immediately responding by snapping to attention. "One who, despite her differences of opinion, has served this nation with loyalty and distinction, until the very end. Step forward, General. You will always be welcome within these halls and your contributions shall never be forgotten," the Overlord spoke. He did not hold it against her that she had chosen to retire. Unlike Ra'a'mah, Kiso had done the honorable thing. And despite voicing her objections, she had never once disregarded her duty.

There was one final pair of guests to acknowledge, his old nemesis Adron Malvern and his companion, Alessandra Creed, who was also the Overlord's business partner, owning a stake in Karavin Concern, Tacitus' military-industrial conglomerate. "Welcome, ministers," he greeted them with all the proper formality, despite his hatred for the man who ended his life, once.

The greetings were cut short, however, by an ear-splitting scream coming from one of the corridors at the back of the massive chambers. Blackwatch troopers responded at once. Fearing intrusion and foul play, two squads of heavily armed secret policemen converged upon the location of the scream at a brisk pace, followed by the Overlord himself, who was not the kind of man that would cower behind his soldiers during a dangerous situation.

However, what they found was not terrorists or assassins, but a drunk girl huddled up on the floor, crying. The troopers looked at eachother in confusion, even as the Overlord stared at Scherezade with a look of pure disgust plastered on his face. He did not care about whatever explanation the unruly teenager might come up with. The way she looked was enough for him to draw all the conclusions he needed. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked, his voice dripping with seething rage. "Have you no respect for the dead, deWinter?" he addressed the girl, his feline eyes fixed upon hers. "I welcomed you within these walls out of respect for your aunt, but it seems you lack even an ounce of decency," the Sith Lord spoke, his tone condescending. "I would have expected more from one of your station, but clearly, your education is lacking."

"Get yourself cleaned up," he snapped at her, his tone authoritative and stern. "We will talk about this after the banquet. In the meantime, I expect you to behave in the proper way that is befitting for such an occasion," he spoke, disappointment written clearly on his features, his tone making it clear that his command was not negotiable and that he expected it to be followed to the letter.

This insult would not be allowed to slide. He would have words with her aunt about getting the girl a proper education and some much needed discipline. At the soon-to-be-opened military academy. His patience for disrespect and insolence was at an end.