Faction [GC/SO] The Golden Covenant

[Romé]

WEB OF SNAKES
~Her the heron huried away~

WEARING: x
PROXIMITY: Corazona von Ascania | Darth Malum of House Marr | Sophia of House Marr | Open
ENGAGING: Darth Nwul | Kadann

​

THULE, ESSTRAN SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

“All the Empires, Alliances, and Crusades, hmm?” It’s quite clear that Kadann was a man of his era, a product of countless wars and massacres, a man devoid of what was once there. A man with a sword, yet no cause, wandering the galaxy, keeping himself occupied, waiting for the inevitable. “In civility, you never realize the knife until it's planted on your back.” I recognized his small smile from before, now fixing my gaze on his lips and beards around it. “Perhaps it’s a good thing for the snakes in the grass field, like my master, or your overlord.” I grinned as I tiptoed to reach his ear, whispering the devilish word just for his hearings. There are too many eavesdropping ears and gossiping mouths around, no matter where we go, where we’re walking towards.

As Kadann reveals his true intention, I caught a glimpse of Darth Nwul 's gaze, torrid yet intoxicating, right before he, or she, I wouldn’t know at this point, goes on another series of extravaganzas and speeches. Perhaps I shall move on to a next endeavor, grazing the dance floor and taking the spotlight from all these petty nobles. “It has been as I envisioned, Lord Jedi. Go with the wind, until our path cross again, Bogan’s willing.” I rested my hand on Kadann’s cheek, stroking his bearded chin, then cruising my way towards the dance floor before he could react.

The dance floor, let’s just say it’s a nest of petty nobles and limp officers screaming “PICK ME PLEASE” at the ones who truly hold power. Folks such as my master, Darth Malum of House Marr , who is currently enjoying the company of the young debutante slash Jedi, Corazona von Ascania . So many Jedi here today, what a marvelous party. There’s also master’s little sister, Sophia of House Marr , now sharing the small space with Darth Nwul himself. What a peacock. The newly knighted Sith is not someone I am too fond of, and I’d like to think that it’s not a one-way feeling. Always jealous of my relationship with his brother, always trying to pry him away, always the attention-seeker she is. And now she is having the time of her life with the Sith Lord. Catching my master’s eyes, also having too good of a time, I flashed him a devilish smirk. If my own master is not going to parade me around the party, then I shall do it myself.

As the music changed, Sophia had spurned Darth Nwul for her next dancing partner, I danced my way in, gracefully, taking the hands that were just abandoned a mere second ago. “A fascinating spectacles you’re holding, my Lord.” I purred my words to his ears, moving my figure delicately to the rhythm of the music. Looking into his eyes, I wonder, what is he thinking of all this, if it goes according to his plan, and more importantly, what is his deal with the Marr. It is of the utmost importance for me to understand, I am the one that Darth Malum promised to, after all. That if his fate was a rather uneventful one, on that day in Alvaria, that I would inherit much of his wealth. The heir of the heir. It doesn’t matter that he ended up surviving the encounter, it doesn’t matter if it was just words, bogus promises of a manipulative man. What you sow is what you reap, a promise shall be fulfilled, peacefully or by force. One day. And so I too shall wonder, what does Nwul think of the lady in front of him, a lady whose mind is occupied by the family affair of her master, a lady who’s only using him to one-up her so-called relatives. Shifting my gaze slowly from Nwul’s rousing golden eyes, it went methodically to Sophia, taunting her with a sultry smirk, before moving on to his brother, doing the exact same thing.

This is a Marr’s world, after all. You’re just renting a space in it.
​

​

 

[TBA]

It was another party. For once, she wished she could've just worn a dress like the others here, relished in the thrill of such a ball. And yet she hadn't. The black dress of mourning that had been picked out and given as her dear brother had decided to make a statement. It wasn't one she cared for. Eyes were on her now, because of it. Eyes! People were looking at her because of him! She cursed him under her breath as he danced and had his own fun with the random blonde that had been originally on Nwul's arm.

Did he fancy woman that belonged to another? Was that the kind of man he really was? She frowned as she saw this whole new side of the elder brother she looked up to for protection. If he got himself taken away by another girl, would he protect her more than his sisters? Would he abandon his sisters? Before she knew it, Julia was glaring at Corazona von Ascania . She tightened her fists where she sat, debating on how just to ruin that perfect little creature that dared to infiltrate her ideal little world. For the first time she'd been able to feel comfortable back home. Mother and Father weren't able to hold sway over her. It was all up to Malum.

She'd cut apart that pretty little face. That's what she decided on. Scar it up so her brother wouldn't be able to be enthralled by that witch any longer. Yes, that was the path. She smiled far too sweetly as she stood. She would not let her ability to live comfortably be threatened a moment longer. "Brother! Dear brother Malum! Why don't you introduce me to your friend? I'd very much like to talk with her!"

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Kadann]

“All the Empires, Alliances, and Crusades, hmm?” It’s quite clear that Kadann was a man of his era, a product of countless wars and massacres, a man devoid of what was once there. A man with a sword, yet no cause, wandering the galaxy, keeping himself occupied, waiting for the inevitable. “In civility, you never realize the knife until it's planted on your back.” I recognized his small smile from before, now fixing my gaze on his lips and beards around it. “Perhaps it’s a good thing for the snakes in the grass field, like my master, or your overlord.” I grinned as I tiptoed to reach his ear, whispering the devilish word just for his hearings. There are too many eavesdropping ears and gossiping mouths around, no matter where we go, where we’re walking towards.

As Kadann reveals his true intention, I caught a glimpse of Darth Nwul 's gaze, torrid yet intoxicating, right before he, or she, I wouldn’t know at this point, goes on another series of extravaganzas and speeches. Perhaps I shall move on to a next endeavor, grazing the dance floor and taking the spotlight from all these petty nobles. “It has been as I envisioned, Lord Jedi. Go with the wind, until our path cross again, Bogan’s willing.” I rested my hand on Kadann’s cheek, stroking his bearded chin, then cruising my way towards the dance floor before he could react

A smile graced his face as she turned and left. There was one who clearly had her own schemes. It had been a pleasant distraction. The gentle touch of a beautiful woman didn't truly move him, but it evoked a memory of experiences he missed. A soft, melancholy sigh escaped his lips before he recomposed himself.

Kadann drew his shoulders back and crossed the room to intercept Shan Pavond

On his way he apologised to gilded nobles and sycophants and kept an impassive expression the entire time. There were people of power, those scheming to take power and those that would wiliingly crawl below the table and hope to pick up the scraps.

"Lad," Kadann said gruffly. "You are enjoying the party? No one is bothering you?"

He was a guest and under protection. Looking after the patrons included the two Jedi, as far as Kadann was concerned. He was a sword for hire, a fallen jedi, but he wouldn't tolerate cruelty.

"Brother! Dear brother Malum! Why don't you introduce me to your friend? I'd very much like to talk with her!"

Kadann stiffened. He didn't rely on bombastic abilities and yet he had survived the worst excesses of war between the dark and the light. He had learned to read the ripples in the flow of the Force, understand where he needed to be to have the most impact or to survive.

He sensed a moment ahead, one of danger. A vision of tempers frayed and violence spilling over.

Kadann turned, putting Shan on his side. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and made eye contract with Darth Malum of House Marr

Kadann gave a subtle shake of his head. He watched and waited. The moment would be abated by the actions of others or he would act himself.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

As they swept along the dance floor, Cora felt eyes on them. The probing, vicious eyes. She'd grown used to such withering stares during her tenure as Princess of Ukatis, and had ways of putting fussy socialites in their places.

But this was not her kingdom. If not for Nwul's favor and by extension, his protection, she had no doubt that some of those in attendance would've bared their fangs wider at her. Perhaps even taken a bite.

It went without saying that both she and Darth Malum of House Marr were used to the eternal judgment that came with upholding the title of an ancient noble House. There was a spark of kinship in that - ever dutiful to their respective families, a mutual understanding of the brutal undercurrents that kept people like them afloat, and what it took to maintain them.

"A spy! Clearly my friend Nwul has been betwixt by your seductive ways, after all, how else could a Jedi, of your... calibre, gain such close access to such a rising Sith like him?"

A heated flush crept onto pale cheeks for the mention of seduction and how close Malum's face was to her own. A dance was one thing, but Cora had never quite grown used to men being so near, even if she'd been the one to draw him forward initially. Raw hesitation crept onto her features for a moment before she chased it away with a courtly smile. "Ah, you two are friends?" That was new. A faint thread of amusement drifted into her mind, not a thought of her own, but something external. Her gaze flickered in the direction from which it had come - ah, of course. Even floating among the guests, Darth Nwul was watching. There was some comfort in that.

Malum did not pull away to answer her question. Instead, he fixed his fervent gaze on her wide eyes, gleaming crimson meeting seaglass blue. By now, she expected his gentleman's grip on her hip or hand to tighten in warning, but it didn't.

He made a valid point. The cycle of light and dark churned away, even if she was too young to appreciate a time when the Sith had truly spread across the galaxy like a plague. Cora had entered the New Jedi Order when they had the Maw on their back foot. Exegol had been her brutal initiation into the galaxy. Still, she couldn't stop her brow from scrunching curiously at Malum's explanation. Why was he here if he thought Nwul would fail? Perhaps House Marr was simply holding their breath, waiting to see which way the wind would blow. Nwul was powerful and charismatic, but it seemed that he still had to prove himself in the eyes of many.

"You don't sound particularly enthused about the direction of those you've chosen to serve." Her head tilted to the side, a few stray wisps of blonde hair falling over her vision. "I can imagine that removing yourself from the Sith could be catastrophic to your House."

Unless, of course, Malum had the strength and political aptitude to guide them through it. If that was what he wanted.

A woman materialized behind the heir of Marr, a dark haired vixen with an alluring aura that reminded her of-

Cora blinked, rapidly trying to process what she'd seen, even as the woman murmured in Malum’s ear and seemed to disperse into thin air. Why was she so familiar? That smile, those eyes…

A wash of pink crept back up her cheeks, realization slowly filtering into her mind as she spied Nwul dancing with one of the Marr sisters. With his speech done, of course he was going to have some fun for himself.

Of course.

Shaking the thought from her mind that Nwul made an irritatingly stunning woman, her senses picked up something…interesting. The tension in Malum's jaw, the ire in his eyes, the aura of protectiveness that pulsed from his very being - it was directed towards Nwul as he was now waltzing with the gorgeous young Marr.

"Some prefer for a woman to remain quiet, some prefer for her to have a voice." Cora murmured as they drifted closer to Nwul and Sophia. "He is a gentleman, but I wouldn't be able to help my concern if one of my little sisters found themselves on the arm of a Sith Lord."

For all she knew, Sophia of House Marr may very well be quite capable. Perhaps she was enchanting her dance partner at this very moment, and Malum's brotherly concern - which she entirely understood - was misplaced.

Her focus now shifted wholly to Lord Marr’s words, sensing the subtle change in his tone. Her attention was rapt, studying his face and his signature in the Force to see if she could detect a hit of well-placed sarcasm or a barb of malice. She sensed none, but that didn't mean that she trusted him implicitly. Still, her eyes softened.

"I am touched by your concern, Malum. But there is no need to worry - Lord Nwul is kind to me and I am here by choice."

Honest but guarded. Even if that were true, Cora was aware that simply being here was a dangerous game. A game that could get both herself and Shan Pavond killed, or worse. How would she ever be able to face Valery and Kahlil again, should the worst come to pass?

Before they could get much further, a new face stepped in. A pretty face, with hair of onyx and ruby eyes. Sweet words and a saccharine smile did not assuage the danger sense that prickled at the back of Cora's neck.

"Corazona von Ascania," Offering her name to TBA , she tilted her head to the young woman in greeting, smiling cordially. "My, aren't you a lovely thing? A bold choice, but black certainly becomes you."

Noblemen had a tendency to solve their troubles and slights though violence. Women, on the other hand, were often far more sinister, burning down the reputations of their enemies through social engineering, cleverly crafted whispers and suggested rumors. Men killed one another; women poisoned the well and wiped out entire lineages with a glance.

Cora was neither cruel nor conniving by nature, but she'd had to learn the dance in order to survive the vicious court of Ukatis.

Speaking of dances…Nwul drifted into her vision again, now with Cillara Hilexis in his arms. She seemed rather smug about it, and Cora suppressed a roll of her eyes. She was well aware of Nwul’s polyamorous tendencies, even if she did not hold similar values. Playboy.

 

[Shan Pavond]

Shan had watched his conversation partner walk off, letting out a sigh of relief to himself. Everything felt like he was walking on some kind of tight rope. Too much in one direction and he'll fall to his potential catastrophic doom. Originally he had thought he might have liked the idea of going to a Ball, even as a waiter. But now? He'd much prefer a duel, which was saying something considering how much of a pacifist Shan was. But at least with a duel, he could see the danger in front of him. He could keep himself aware of it, but the danger that laid around him was more subtle. It was hidden. And Shan didn't like that whatsoever. He would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid, but he had to stuff that feeling down into the pit of his being. Fear was natural, but he couldn't let it control him. Especially with where he was right now.

Though he was snapped out of his thoughts by the gruff voice coming from his side, turning around to face Kadann "Oh. I am...well Sir. I'm enjoying the party as much as I can. I've never been...used to them, to say the least." Shan gave a polite smile at that, rubbing the back of his neck afterwards. The Mirialan was never much of a partier. He was more of a studious person. It was why he never liked having a birthday party...Wait a second. Birthday party. Shan's eyes went wide as he realised that he had missed his birthday whilst he was amongst the dark siders...Oh well. It wasn't much of a loss in his eyes. He just shook his head and turned his attention back towards Kadann, giving the man a small smile.

However that smile was almost wiped immediately. Shan wasn't aware of the flow of the Force as some Force Users, but he could clearly see how Kadann was reacting and that brought his attention over towards Corazona von Ascania Darth Malum of House Marr and TBA . As much as it was potentially foolish, Shan prepared to step forward to try and help out his fellow Jedi, before stopping himself. Glancing over towards Kadann to see the way the Force User was standing, Shan decided it would be best to stay stood where he was. He didn't have anything that would be able to help if a fight did break out...and Cora could possibly handle herself now that he thought about it. He didn't have to rush in to help her. The Mirialan had to remind himself, sometimes it was best to keep an eye out for himself instead of others.

 

[Darth Nwul]

The beautifully refined creature before him examined him with appraising eyes. His lips thinning into a mischievious smile as she did so. Of course he knew who she was. He had watched the procession of the Marrs entering the gala. But he couldn't help but play a little, it was fun, and perhaps getting a rise out of her would end in additional amusement. Instead, her gaze was more than just calculating. There was a little mischief in there as well. Interesting.

When she finally graced him with that precocious smile his eyebrows rose a bit higher. Then she twirled away for a moment, teasing out the encounter for a few more seconds. The arrogance and pride that radiated out of the depths of her very soul was marvelous. To her, every being beneath her social stratum existed for one purpose. To stand, attend, and worship her. The whites of his teeth were beginning to show when she spoke and reprimanded him, "Oho! Am I?" He chuckled.

Her countenance became a mixture of instruction and magnanimity, she moved only close enough as was proper not too close, not too far though either. She teased the edge of scandal like a professional and caused his amusement to blossom even more.

In the distance he felt a mixture of emotions radiating from Cora, surprise, hesitation, then patient focus, she knew what she was doing in an environment like this. He trusted her to navigate and she could safely lean on his station as her own. His heart. No one would touch her. He didn't move his gaze from Sophia of House Marr 's face as his mind, the network of the Jensaa making his mind work like a supercomputer, processing thoughts in fractions of a second. Instead, he smirked at her just as she quipped about her family warranting recognition.

His smile widened, it was funny that she was still jumping to conclusions. How adorable. He stifled his laughter though and played along, as she regarded him one last time, he sensed... pride again, determination perhaps, ah, he allowed her hand to find his elbow, then his hand. Glancing down at her soft fingers as they took his own. He moved into the waltz, tilting his head down to look her in the eyes with his molten gaze.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Darth Nwul purred, his voice an odd cadence of mirth and something a bit more dangerous. He smiled at her before he sensed rage and petulance pointed his way. He glanced up, dancing with the girl as Malum's eyes met his from just a few feet away as they danced. Malum was dancing with Cora still and Nwul almost barked out a laugh. Was he really complaining? You're being cute, stop it," Nwul teased him through the force, using the voice of his other form. He stuck his tongue out for half a second at Malum before looking back down at Sophia.

...she was pretty though. And her nature was so like his own...

He tilted his head again, his eyes narrowing partially at her thanks. He continued to play along with the girl who was so deliciously lost in her own pride. His smile widening even more as the mischief in him built. The music shifted and he stepped back, responding to her curtsey with a bow of his own, his hand over his heart. When he stood, his smile was borderline wicked, his teeth seeming like razor points for a heartbeat. Oh, she was fun! How amusing!

Another pair of hands took her away and she laughed, life, joy, positie emotions pouring out of her in waves. That was the moment that stuck with him the most, the fact that she hadn't had those precious treasures crushed out of her spirit yet. He did not call out to her through the force, nor did he react in any way to her statements besides his smile. No, this was far more fun to him, he could-

Another pair of hands took his. Cillara Hilexis. Darth Malum of House Marr 's apprentice. The arrogant pup. Nwul's expression did not shift from his toothy smile, his gleaming eyes taking in her posture and poise, the way the bands of her emotions worked and weaved, he tasted her intentions and felt her feelings. Ah. She loathed Sophia and resented her Master. Not for her desire for his power, but a small, petty reason. He tasted the impudence of the games of a girl who thought too much of herself.

And she had dared use him to get back at her master and show up a Knight of the Sith. She had dared reach beyond her station for such a petty reason? Not for power, but as a tantrum. Nwul's smile widened even more broadly as his eyes glittered with mirth and something... terrible. He took her hands in his as they moved, his thoughts taking barely a heartbeat to register. His emotions, his rage, his disgust, his annoyance, all hidden perfectly behind the mass of feelings that was his presence and then set aside as yet more feelings to wield.

He leaned in a bit closer as she whispered, "You think so?" He asked, softly, his voice coming out laced with something like roses and flowers, soft, almost like there was mist pouring from his lips. It purred and coiled and danced through the air, a delicate sing-song cadence to his voice. His eyes gleamed as he arrested her with his gaze, "All to remind the people of this empire of the importance of our meritocracy, our hierarchy, that earning respect is paramount," Nwul said softly, his words still carrying that strange cadence. The mist gathering invisibly save for a few who knew what to look for, around her.

His emotions built, a bubblbing cauldron of pure, unmitigated love readying to be blasted through the intensifying conneciton. "Something you of course understand, without a doubt, Apprentice of Marr," Nwul cooed, slowly, "An apprentice would never do something to embarass her master in such a place," Nwul continued, the mist wrapping around her neck as he whispered, his reprimand laced with the delicate pleasure of sweet nothings and love, of heartache and desire. The Lord of Passion's eyes glowed...

"If my apprentice did that to me, I'd have them d-" He almost said the trigger word when two voices broke through the weaving of death by misery.

"Father?"

The spell broke as easily as the mist breaking against the rays of the sun, his warning fading into the wind as his eyes pulled away from the arrogant little apprentice. Two Rattataki women stood just three feet away, their eyes gleaming with gold irises. They wore scarlet robes with laced patterns and elegant finery. Their hoods were thrown back revealing the golden jewelry that had replaced the silver forced upon them by their dead sire. A few nobles stopped and stared in surprise.

The two teens bowed to him. "Forgive us the delay in greeting you on the floor, Father," The more delicate of the two, Darya, said with a smile, "Darya kul'Shasot greets her beloved father."

The more stern of the two, Yjome, bowed next, "Yjome kul'Shasot greets her revered father." She said in clipped tones, the voice of a solider.

Darya's eyes flicked towards Cillara for a heartbeat and Nwul's smile widened. She'd saved the woman's life! He snorted a laugh and released Cillara's hands, turning to his daughters.

"My dears, you look incredible," He crowed, throwing his arms out wide and taking them into an embrace. He released them after a heartbeat and rested his arms behind his back.

"Will you dance with us father?" Darya asked her gleaming eyes looking up to him in hope. Nwul glanced at Yjome in surprise. The 'tough' sibling looked away abruptly with an expression of 'this is her idea, not mine, don't include me, this is embarassing'. He laughed and smiled back at Darya, taking her hands and not even looking towards the woman he almost sent to her death.

"I'm afraid, Apprentice of Marr, that I've been called upon. Enjoy the rest of your evening, dear," He said softly, and resumed the dance.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: OPEN //:​

Another waiter passed with a different glass with a more full-bodied wine. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around the stem. "Thank you." The waiter was similar to the first and she wondered if he had seen the look of disgust when she had sipped the champagne. Listening to the whispers and the shifts of emotion through the Force. This man knew how to work up a crowd. His ( Darth Nwul ) face wasn't familiar so he had to be a newer family feeding on the corpses of the old.

Quinn sipped the full red and watched the crowd with disappointment. A second disappointment and Quinn finally gave up. The glass remained in her hand as she let her eyes scan further into the room. Faces from the House of Marr Darth Malum of House Marr , Sophia of House Marr , TBA ) were picked out in the crowd while the rest seemed to be newer families also showing up. She had hoped there would have been more Zambranos, Marrs, and other older families in the crowd. "Curious." She mumbled under her breath as she took another sip of the mediocre wine. Aside from her, Alina, and the Marr children the rest were new players among the nobles. Though the thought shouldn't have surprised her, nobles and aristocrats loved to rub elbows with each other, and plot to gain more power.

A part of her had missed this type of game. She had been out of it for roughly seven or more years. It meant that the Varanin name, while still holding power, had gone dormant. Quinn sighed, knowing that she had an uphill climb to make her name viable again in the world of the Sith. Unlike the others, she wasn't a noble or an aristocrat - Quinn Varanin was a royal. She was the daughter of a former Empress of the Sith, the second heir to the Echani Throne of Eshan, and the goddaughter to the Empire's current Empress. The thought of her Godmother Srina Talon having a title forced on her made her grin. She knew how the woman cared little for things like that, a trait she shared with Quinn's Echani mother.

She knew the history of the Sith linking back through several Emperors and listening to the man's speech about their great houses made her understand how the new families functioned. They didn't know history, they didn't understand history, they had their own ideals and wanted to force them upon others. It reminded her of a certain noble that desperately craved her attention. Still, to this day she wondered if he cared about her or the status she could give him when it came to her Godmother.

Though, the princess did miss toying with him - he was fun.

Quinn took another sip and then began to move through the crowd. There was a desire to know what others thought about this charismatic leader. She weaved through the crowd passing close to the crowd that had surrounded him. Quinn gleaned some emotions and they were all the same, excitement and hunger. It made the woman raise an eyebrow, it surprised her how easily people were being swayed.

Moving past the group she bumped slightly into an older gentleman ( Kadann ), smiling like her Echani mother ( Spencer Varanin ) , she apologized quickly. "Oh excuse me, I hope I didn't spill any of this horrendous choice of wine on you, Sir." Looking carefully, she didn't see anything nor did she see any of the liquid clinging to the edge of her glass.

 

[EVE_0001]

To say that Eve was speechless would be an understatement. Here she was, a clone of a Lady of the Sith, with no memories of a life prior to being awakened, being declared a member of a House with all the privileges thereof.

Noticing her animal in the spotlight expression, Lady Venge walked towards Eve with a sly smile on her face.

"What's the matter, child? Womp rat got your tongue," Venge asked.

"I...I don't know what to say.," Eve answered. "I barely know you, or Lord Amarok for that matter, and you want me to be a part of your legacy?...I don't understand."

"In time, Eve, you shall learn," Venge replied.

TAGS- OPEN

 

[Kadann]

Though he was snapped out of his thoughts by the gruff voice coming from his side, turning around to face Kadann Kadann "Oh. I am...well Sir. I'm enjoying the party as much as I can. I've never been...used to them, to say the least." Shan gave a polite smile at that, rubbing the back of his neck afterwards.

"I am no 'Sir', Kadann will do," he corrected.

"If you do not enjoy parties then don't be afraid to turn in early if you need. I'll excuse you if you need it," Kadann offered.

As much as it was potentially foolish, Shan prepared to step forward to try and help out his fellow Jedi, before stopping himself. Glancing over towards Kadann to see the way the Force User was standing, Shan decided it would be best to stay stood where he was.

"No lad, you stay just there," Kadann replied in a friendly tone. He offered a sidelong glance, a rare sparkle in his blue eyes. He appreciated the boy's bravery given the nest of vipers he walked.

Moving past the group she bumped slightly into an older gentleman ( Kadann Kadann ), smiling like her Echani mother ( Spencer Varanin Spencer Varanin ) , she apologized quickly. "Oh excuse me, I hope I didn't spill any of this horrendous choice of wine on you, Sir." Looking carefully, she didn't see anything nor did she see any of the liquid clinging to the edge of her glass.

Kadann gave a respectful bow of his head. Despite the apology, almost everyone here was titled or powerful. Kadann had no place raising his voice as little more than a wartime advisor and lightsaber-for-hire.

"No Sir, just Kadann."

A glance down at his clothing revealed no hint of cheap wine.

"It seems you still have your glass full. Given the standard of the wine maybe that isn't welcome news..."

As he looked up his sentence faded out.

Kadann had built layered, impenetrable walls around his own mind. None here were going to force their way into his thoughts easily. Even if they had the ability, given the slow and meticulous build of layers of defence, they would not do so without initiating a hostile battle of wills that Kadan - and others - would know about.

As he saw Quinn's face he couldn't help but leave a ripple of surprise and an anger as aged as fine wine spread through the Force. Either his memory was fading or the Sith Empress had survived her empire being crushed. The memories of being an idealistic padawan taking to the field of battle were still fresh.

"Your name, my Lady?" he asked. His feelings submerged, no longer leaving ripples in the Force.

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

​

Tag: Darth Nwul | Darth Malum of House Marr | Corazona von Ascania | Darth Caedes | Cillara Hilexis [OPEN]
Location: Thule
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"Dance is communication, and so the great challenge is to speak clearly, beautifully and with inevitability."
___________​

There was a moment of clarity while Darth Nwul graciously accepted her intent without complaint. They fell into time with the rest of the esteemed crowd and for a few scant seconds, they blended in with the rest of the nobility. For just a heartbeat or two, Sophia, actually felt as if this were a party rather than a gathering of past-present once and possibly future enemies. Harmony among their ranks could scarcely be found even when bound by blood, so much so, that many likened it to weakness.

During a turn while her elder brother drew closer with, temporarily, his pristine princess, their eyes met and red clashed with red. Darth Malum of House Marr was a mystery to many. Filled with contradictory complexities that often brought more questions than answers. He knew her pain. Knew…How deeply she felt the need to prove herself deserving of their lineage. She'd made mistakes in her youth when rebellion seemed to be the only way to make her voice heard. Some of those errors were repairable and some were not. Some of them she stood by—Even now.

Regardless of their differing opinions…She would never get the chance to reach her aspirations if Malum wouldn't allow it. No one had any control over her, not their sisters, not their mother and father, grandparents, and he well knew it. Sophia needed to be more than what she had been throughout much of her short life. She couldn't keep hiding behind him if she wanted to stand beside him. This meant that she had to be the shining star, the peacock, the deliriously inscrutable and delightful sibling so that she might earn some measure of freedom.

Sophia needed to be worthy of more than his duty to his youngest sister, his affections, for the one that had always come to watch him train. Making silly faces when his instructors turned their backs so that some bit of levity might lessen the otherwise draining duties of an Heir to a grand and noble House. He learned the darkest of arts while she learned how to manage a household and become the perfect…peace offering…to a rival House.

Sophia knew that she already had his love. (This was never a question, obviously,)

That was guaranteed in every gift Malum brought her from his travels. In every moment he had reasoned with their parents not to punish her when she…Liberated herself from her nursemaids as she snuck away for a walk-about far past curfew.

Tonight…The littlest Marr asked for only one thing. Not gems or jewels, not fanciful creatures, or luxurious clothing, but for one, single thing, that might be the hardest to find.

His trust.

<<…I cannot be your pretty bird in a gilded cage forever…>>

But…She would always come home. Malum, above all, knew where that was.
​

It was not his cage that kept her...but the sentiment remained all the same. With her peace telepathically projected to his mind, she lost sight of them as her sister ( TBA ) made her approach. She felt a distinct swell of pity for Corazona von Ascania in that moment. It would either be the beginning of a very fond memory to recount later with distinctly stronger liquor involved or the prelude of a beautifully orchestrated nightmare. Her focus returned to her potentially unwilling dance partner but Darth Nwul seemed to have taken her boldness in stride.

She noted the way he chuckled, observed, and almost let her lead in a dance where it was typically brought forth by the more masculine counterpart. Sophia could nearly feel the Sith Lord analyzing her but dismissed it as a hazard of his chosen occupation. He didn't know her any more than she knew him. It was fair that the host evaluate his guests (even though she was clearly flawless) so that he might justify the proper expenditure of precious time. The Gala would only last for so long.

It wouldn't do for his cause to waste it.

Afterall…She made her silent conclusions. He was entitled to his. Her smile remained steadfast, though curious when he shot someone an expression over her head. She'd almost missed it but the act actually made her hold back a rather non-lady-like snicker when she realized that the playfully childlike taunt was all for Malum. Ah. So, Nwul had sensed it too. The rush and flow of invisible and protective wings that were determined to keep her safe at any and all costs.

The warning, the anger, woven seamlessly into every feather.

Sophia barely had time to register the sharpness of the smile that Darth Nwul gave her when the time came to switch partners. Not everyone did…But in the spirit of the festivities, Sophia thought it best to keep up appearances. That meant not staying too long with any one person unless she had a reason to. Not to mention…The host of the party couldn't be seen favoring her for too long. That would equate to favor being passed on House Marr which was both…Positive and negative.

It simply depended on who noticed.

True to form (Perhaps that was part of the problem) …Sophia didn't notice Cillara Hilexis at all. She never had. Hating someone would have required her to carry a heavy burden that she quite frankly didn't feel like lifting. She had servants for that. Maintaining absolute abhorrence was an energy-draining endeavor that consumed both mental and emotional resources that were better spent on her newest shade of lipstick rather than a peasant her brother took pity on. If Hilexis was trying to evoke some sort of internal or external response from her…She would find herself playing an exceedingly futile and frustrating game.

With that in mind, the raven-haired woman remained exactly as she had initially projected herself to be when walking down the grand staircase. Radiant in her revelry of the dark, joyful of the successes of the Sith Order, and unrepentantly pleased with representing her bloodline. Sophia was a beacon of refinement twined with a hint of barely contained bedlam. An angelic being of Iego wearing silks of the blackest night and the reddest rose, pure, in her wicked imperfections.

She remained blissfully unaware that anything was against propriety until she felt a cloud of something unspeakable pressing against her back. As she turned gracefully in the arms of some Lord of I-Stopped-Listening-Awhile-Ago It was so strong that she thought she saw it between moving bodies on the dancefloor. Her head turned and turned in the same direction it came from and she couldn't figure out why no one else was looking. What…Was that?

It was a mixture of the deepest convalescence of negative emotion and of the warmest touch of contentment she had ever known. It was death wrapped in saccharinity. Extremely reminiscent of the overly powerful scent of a lingering funeral procession. Miasmic, thick, slightly lemony, but overripe with the potential for what would soon be a state of decomposition. It was a feeling. Everything was in her mind but she could only akin it to loving, sweet, death. It was…A perfume that promised misery and rot.

The juxtaposition made an unwanted shiver roll down her spine.

It threw her off.

When her faceless dance partner dipped her back, she breathed sharply in surprise, even though, the dance required such an action. Sophia should have been prepared for it. There was a question that she heard distantly when he pulled her back up. Was she all right? Had he harmed her? Her hand settled briefly back on his shoulder in womanly reassurances while a beguiling smile returned her composure. It was easy enough to guide him back to talking about his destruction of the Jedi-I'm-So-Evil-Blah-Blah…Sophia tuned him out like white noise.

No explanation was required to those who weren't perceptive enough to see what she had seen.

To feel what she had felt.

To understand that the unsettling sensation had poured through none other than the Sith Lord she'd been dancing with before. She caught parts of the conversation. Father. Marr. Sophia fought a frown but continued to fall into the expected waltz. It was a routine that she knew well, thankfully, and could perform without thinking. Sophia pulled back when the song ended and performed a curtsey just as she had before. It was a sign of mutual respect before she broke away fully, turned, and began anew.

This cycle went on until eventually, her turn rotated back to Darth Nwul . Sophia did not hesitate nor show any form of discomfort but waited patiently for his current partner to make her exit. Was this one of the two she had glimpsed that called him father? Her head inclined to the woman but the next dance was already starting. There was but a moment to shift, breathe, and then they were expected to move on to the next pairing or remove themselves from the main rotation.

If was a way of momentarily meeting others of their ilk while not imposing themselves for too long.

Sophia let things settle for the moment and fell back into the waltz as if she were born for it. If Lord Nwul wanted to pull free and return to mingling, or dance with another on the side, like the princess and her brother, Sophia would take no offense. She was already surprised that the host had managed this much time to himself when she had only expected a few minutes in passing.

"…You seem a little too young for fully grown daughters."

In truth…Give or take the Steward didn't really look much older or younger than Malum. Nevertheless, the shining creature let her much taller dance partner spin her round and round, beneath glowing chandeliers, with a grace that seemed to defy gravity. Every movement was exactly as it had been before. Calculated. It was a testament to beauty, precision, and passion that never brought her too near nor too far away. It was simply the nature of the dance.

An endless web of give and take, rise and fall, the waxing and waning of the tide.

Eventually…Her curiosity bade that she ask. Sophia was prepared for a possible response that might not be favorable but it was impossible to forget. "That…", she trailed off, lightly, while crimson orbs rose to meet his with a faint pinch of carefully arched eyebrows just above the bridge of her nose. As if looking at him was…Suddenly not the same. Confusing—But echoing with a lucidity that she hadn't held during their first dance. She was lovely, her life charmed, but that shouldn't be confused with stupidity.

"Was you?"

Sophia didn't really wait for a response and her eyes dipped away while her hand rose with his above her head so that she could spin beneath his arm once more. The young woman caught his opposite hand in her own again and her other returned to his shoulder as she fell back into step. Every moment, every breath, in time with the music that played without falter. "…Should I be concerned?"

It was reasonable to ask to those with working brain cells.

It had happened right after she left him.

(And as all will soon know if they haven't figured it out already…The universe must revolve around Sophia Marr. Darth Nwul's sudden burst of power couldn't possibly be anything else—Right?)

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kadann //:​

The brief wave of anger mixed with surprise hit Quinn, she did her best to mask her own surprise. Running into people and then staring at the look they gave her happened more often than not. He withdrew the brief emotional fart and Quinn felt her shoulders relax. The short moment felt eternal, but she played it off and looked at her glass. "Unfortunately, I know." A soft laugh as her hand rested over her mouth to be polite.

As much as his mind was protected, Quinn knew better when he asked her name. Her lips curled in what was potentially an all-too-familiar grin for the man. "Quinn," She started, "Quinn Varanin." It felt like it was just the two of them in the room, her focus was on the older man, knowing that something with how she looked or felt in the Force reminded him of something. Her memory recalled during a Jedi invasion of Bastion a large imperial creature hunted her down because he smelled Ashin. Quinn had wondered during her and her sister's creation if she was more of a product of Ashin's Force essence than her sister. Still, knowing this she wondered if the man had crossed the former Empress before - therefore recognizing the threads of the Force.

"Despite the wine choices, the gala has been quite eventful, don't you think Kadann? Are you enjoying yourself?" She continued to smile, wanting to make pleasantries if only to fulfill her new curiosity about this man.

 

[Shan Pavond]

Shan blinked as Kadann corrected him on the use of titles, as the Mirialan gave a short nod of his head, before rubbing the back of his neck. "I apologise...Manners just have always been a big thing for me." He lowered his head at that. Kadann seemed reasonable, for one of the people associated with the Sith but he still wasn't sure how to feel about the stranger either way. They were still affilated with the Sith after all. He shook his head at the offer to have Kadann excuse him from the party, keeping a polite smile on his face. "No, no. That's fine. I'm mostly here to keep an eye on a...friend of mine." He didn't elaborate on who he meant, but considering he was about to step in to try and help Cora, it may have been obvious as to who he had meant.

Though he was surprised to hear the friendliness in Kadann's voice, as the man made sure to stop Shan from heading to what potentially would be a very stupid death if he did get involved. The Padawan just nodded his head at that. Selfish preservation was something he was still yet to learn fully but he was working on it! Slowly but surely as he decided to take a step back, so as not to get involved in any of the issues. "Very well. I shall stay here Si-...Kadann."

 

[Kadann]

"Despite the wine choices, the gala has been quite eventful, don't you think Kadann? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I'm afraid I was never here to enjoy myself," Kadann replied. He didn't specify exactly why he was here, but he wasn't paid to enjoy the subpar wine. He was a set of eyes and ears - and a lightsaber - in case any kind of trouble spilled over.

"But I will say that it has been interesting to observe."

There had certainly been theatrics on a scale he had not witnessed before and there had been power struggles playing out on a dance floor.

"I am glad you are enjoying yourself Miss Varanin. You will be on the dance floor later?"

"Very well. I shall stay here Si-...Kadann."

"You don't need to stay here lad, just don't get caught in the middle of something. Our host won't let anything come to pass."

Kadann too, would not let anything come to pass. A simple mercenary, but if anyone broke the house rules of the event they would come to regret it.

"Tell me Shan," he started, glancing at Quinn. "Do they teach history at the academy? Did you ever learn of the Sith Empress Ashin Varanin? It seems she survived longer than everyone thought."

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

A'Mia Madrona

​

Just as the words of Darth Caedes graced her ears, A'Mia felt a different presence brush against her mind's eye. In much the same way Arctus Silmar spoke to her through the force, now too did Darth Nwul .

​

My, aren't you brave? Would you like to see something pretty?

The storm inside of Nwul condensed, the billowing clouds of emotions that disguised the heart of the storm began to part. For just a moment, that which was hidden within was glimpsed.

Ask your master, little flower, to teach you to reign in your remarkable sight. I would rather not hurt someone precious to my friend.

All at once A'Mia's drifting tendrils of hair seemed whip as if in a strong breeze. Whereas once the focus of her attention pulled upon the edges of Nwul's image like a celestial body is pulled when it draws too near the event horizon of a black hole, all at once her gaze was arrested by the powerful Sith's revelation. He would feel no fear in response to his idle threat, in truth he felt little emotion present in her at all, but there was a sense of calculated and curious awe.

The neti's ethereal form began to settle back down into a calm serene sway as if she were underwater. Schooling her use of the force, she pointedly did not lower her eyes from the man but she centered her mind and put an end to the scouring of his essence with her gaze. A'Mia silently reallocated the upwelling of darkness Shaper had graciously provided to her and made to delicately weave it back into the effort of further bolstering her companions.

Tags: Zal Aditi Elmindra Xitaar Sophia of House Marr
​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kadann //: Shan Pavond //:​

The tension seemed to disperse after she introduced herself. There wasn't any need for her to be on edge around the man; it seemed he was hired to guard someone or something at this event. Quinn relaxed and listened to the man speak with the nervous boy named Shan. "I plan on dancing soon, Kadann. As for enjoying myself - it's been interesting. The host seems to be eccentric." Eyes glanced towards the man dancing with the woman who had pulled him from the crowd when she passed.

She went to excuse herself, but Kadann brought up her mother. Quinn raised an eyebrow and then looked towards the student. He wasn't a student at the Sith Academy; she wondered if he belonged to another known faction. Was he a Jedi? Curious, she hadn't expected to see Jedi mingling with Sith like this. A fascinating occurrence.

"My mother has survived much worse than the crumbling of an Empire." Quinn chuckled softly. "Why are we bringing up my mother, Kadann?"

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Oh that sounded like an uncomfortable topic. Alina hovered near the edge of the party, mostly listening through the different conversations as she debated if she should approach someone or simply wait to be approached. But her ears picked up quite the sudden change in topic near Quinn. Ashin. She knew just how much Quinn wanted her mother's approval, and she doubted the conversation would be very comfortable by the tone of the man there.

And, well, the Jedi.

So she slipped over to that little gathering, her glowing eyes staring towards Shan for the briefest moment. He was someone to be warry of. A Jedi here to defend their friend could spell all manner of trouble. Then looked to Quinn. Who was perfectly fine. She smiled just a little. Of course she was fine. Alina was too quick on that regard, but ever curious none the less. She stood beside Quinn, looking towards the eldest of the group with a raised brow.

"Quite the interesting conversation. I haven't heard of the old Empire since my schooling days."

Quinn Varanin | Shan Pavond | Kadann

 

[Elmindra Xitaar]

Elmindra watched Darth Nwul approach with more familiarity but no less scrutiny than she watched most of the other attendees. In fact, as the host of this event and the one introducing this rather controversial Golden Covenant, she was exceptionally scrutinizing of him. She still saw him as something of an unruly youth, burdened with powerful madness yet competent enough, or perhaps foolish enough, to make something of himself within the Sith Order.

"Darth Nwul." She nodded slowly in response to his decidedly informal welcome, wearing a well-practiced mask of cordiality, but there was an icy judgment in her large reptilian eyes as she analyzed him. She would respect him and his title in his place of power, even if he pointedly did not respect hers as Captain nor Marquess, but she held her tongue otherwise. Instead, she silently observed, taking note of the familiarity she felt in Darth Caedes when interacting with the young man, considering the far older being might find kinship in Nwul as decidedly unorthodox Sith in so far as their relationship to the Force.

Nwul's frivolous display of Force tricks and zealous rhetoric that followed was quite a spectacle to behold and Elmindra found herself quite unimpressed by it all. She agreed that the empire was indeed a shadow of its former glory and that unity among them was the answer to restoring that glory but she did not believe their great Sith warlords were entirely at fault. Without such powerful warriors as their Emperor and Dark Lord Carnifex, she was sure the empire would have been reduced to far less than it was now. She would not claim their leadership was without flaw but she did not find logic in condemnation and further division. The Galactic Alliance was the true plague of the galaxy and she believed that it was with the empire's most powerful Sith that they would need to take back what is rightfully theirs.

Captain Xitaar waded into the crowd arm-in-arm with her liege, observing alongside him the intriguing reactions of the crowd as they ebbed and flowed in response to some of the more controversial statements. She felt Caedes' mind reach out over the crowd, probing curiously, until the full force of his attention landed upon their host. Her eyes lingered on a couple of figures of note including Alina Tremiru , the planetary governor of Dromund Kaas, and Lady Sophia of House Marr .

With delicate command, Elmindra pulled Caedes into a dance, guiding his hand to the small of her back, careful not to prick his fingers on the sharp points of her vicious spinal accessory. She raised his other hand with hers as she pressed close, her impressive height and heels bringing her nearly eye-to-eye with the him. Although she'd placed him in the position to lead, she conducted the first few steps, angling them so that he had a clear view of the young scion over her shoulder.

"It appears our host is rather preoccupied, my king, but there are others here tonight we may benefit from impressing upon. The raven-haired beauty behind me, Lady Sophia, young scion of House Marr, for example. If she were to share a dance with the ascending King of Korriban, it would certainly make an impact. The family appears to be in mourning, a fragile state for a noble house and a ripe opportunity to entertain new alliances." Her voice was almost a coo and only loud enough to carry as far as Caedes' ear.

As Elmindra spoke, her pheromones washed over her lord, inspiring in him a pleasant intoxication, a concocted sensation that imposed a desire for connection and empathy intended to prepare him for his dance with the young woman. She relished the thorough effect her pheromones had on the Clawdite, their reptilian nature allowing for potent compatibility.

Darth Caedes | Madrona A’Mia | Zal Aditi | Arctus Silmar

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Esstran Sector
• Thule
• Rivobam Jungle | The Restored Palace
• Color Code: 028dc1
• Tags— Madrona A’Mia | Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | Arctus Silmar | Darth Nwul | Sophia of House Marr | Alina Tremiru

As he waded into the crowds, the members of Darth Caedes' attaché splintered and split-off like so many vessels-of-war launched from the hangar-bays of a flagship. Startled expressions accompanied jerks and missed steps as Caedes plowed through the dance hall, whispers dying on tongues as tendrils of the Force compelled the disturbed nobility back into silence; back into dancing. Either he released Zal from his arm, or she flew from him like a bird of prey set to the hunt among the unsuspecting and fancily clad, twirling and ruffled nobility. Become my eyes, my ears, for even here, even on Thule, the Force bends to the mercy of Korriban's Voice of Hunger. Go now.

As naturally as one breathes, Caedes' felt the persuasions of Elmindra's mind embrace him like vapors of some sickly sweet perfume; not to compel or to make demands of him, but rather to caress her Lord with a kind of... insistent suggestion. Caedes' lips pressed tightly together, nostrils flaring with every inhalation of the Falleen's insidious and intoxicating pheromones, so that as he turned to follow the movements of Kainite's pristine Marquess he appeared regal and upright, the very vision of an elemental conjured from flame and power.

"It appears our host is rather preoccupied, my king," Elmindra said.​

He felt her nudge, a guiding dominion, a sort of unspoken play-pretend in power which lived exclusively between them, and them alone. He felt the prickle of his fingers as they crawled across her back, lowering themselves into place against the intimacy of her waist. Men died here, he knew, in the clutches of the spider who now took his hand and pulled him into dance.

Caedes nodded in recognition of the Captain's words and tore his gaze away from the scattered Nwul.

"... but there are others here tonight we may benefit from impressing upon. The raven-haired beauty behind me, Lady Sophia, young scion of House Marr, for example. If she were to share a dance with the ascending King of Korriban, it would certainly make an impact. The family appears to be in mourning, a fragile state for a noble house and a ripe opportunity to entertain new alliances."​

With ease, Caedes found the woman in question, an appealing young thing who wore well the trappings of a family in mourning. Lady Sophia, he mused, rolling the name throughout his mind and stretching out with his senses to let them fall upon the scion, a stalking predator in the grass, silent and vigilant. The inhuman pair spun to the swell of music, his fingers caught up in the tangle of Elmindra's— his feet, the sway of their hips, seeming to stem from but one thought, one intuition shared between two bodies.

"Indeed," he replied, following through with another spin, another glance at the raven haired Marr through a chaos of spinning fabric.​

"Though, if I must play to the performance of politics, then surely Korriban's first Lord will see to it that House Tremiru does not waste away, unattended. Indeed, our most gracious Nwul speaks of culture, of the Old Ways, whilst doting upon a Jedi. See to the meaning of this madness, Elmindra Xitaar."​

Caedes raised an eyebrow in challenge, momentarily enjoying the game of prestige and perceptions so beloved by his companion. Still, it was not her suggestion which drove the Sith Lord to depart the shared closeness of their dance, rather the aroma of Sophia's untrained and unrestrained mind, the impressions it left wafting errantly within the Force.

Then, with the ease of a shadow, he loosed from the clutches of his closest ally and vanished into the melee of frivolous self expression, disappearing among dancers to trail light and smokeless fire in his wake. Each step fell with martial accuracy, each spin bringing him closer to the bristling aura of Sophia. Men and women alike choked off gasps of surprise as they found themselves staring into the eyes of Korriban's King, devolving to gossip and giggles in his passing, or else outright panic.

It was like this that he encountered the scion of House Marr; with an outstretched arm and an unarguable embrace, indelicate and firm, though without altogether breaching appropriate forms of decorum nor the fragile constructs of propriety. The weight of his presence in the Force collapsed atop the pair and seemed to momentarily mute the churning clatter of the crowds. His tumultuous eyes flared to pull at the attentions of the young heiress in much the same way planetary bodies consume smaller comets in their lavish feasts of gravity.

"My, what have we here?" Caedes purred and pulled close, his grin carved by a razor's edge, his voice like footsteps atop gravel.​

"A bird flung free from cages she seeks to leave forever behind; outgrown, though yet with wings untested against the roughness of uncharted storms sure to lie ahead."​

​

 

[Shan Pavond]

"I'll try not to get caught in the middle of it." Shan nodded at that, letting out a small sigh. It was easier said than done if he was being honest to himself. He didn't exactly trust Nwul in most things...but he suppose it made sense to trust him with looking after Cora. At least for now. There wasn't much Shan would be able to do, even though every fibre of his being wanted him to step over towards Cora's side. Instead the Mirialan stood his ground, listening to Kadann 's question, before shaking his head. "No. Or at least...they might, but I haven't had a lesson on it. I've mostly been studying lightsaber combat and healing. My...strong suits."

History was something that surprisingly didn't interest Shan. He already focused too much on his own past, and if he did it for galactic history, he would be too paranoid to make any kind of move, in case he replicated a disaster. Though he did wonder what exactly Kadann meant about a Sith Empress surviving longer than people thought...Some kind of immortality or a clone? Neither of those were important thoughts for now however. Though it did seem relatively important, as the woman spoke up that the Empress was her mother. Did she say her name was Quinn Varanin ? Well...then. Shan really had a great job of meeting new people. "...Would you like a drink, Ma'am?" Shan decided he might as well be polite, and offer out the tray of drinks he was carrying. Might as well be useful in some way.

Though the Padawan found himself feeling...far more uncomfortable at the pair of eyes to the side that he could see giving him a quick glance. He just kept his polite smile on his face, turning his attention over Alina Tremiru . Turning the tray of drinks in her direction as well. "Would you like a drink as well Ma'am? I am happy to assist in any way I can." By the Force. Normally Shan had no issue being well...polite and friendly to people, even Sith. But there was just something about this place that was making his skin crawl.

 

[Kadann]

"My mother has survived much worse than the crumbling of an Empire." Quinn chuckled softly. "Why are we bringing up my mother, Kadann?"

"Quite the interesting conversation. I haven't heard of the old Empire since my schooling days."

"No. Or at least...they might, but I haven't had a lesson on it. I've mostly been studying lightsaber combat and healing. My...strong suits."

Kadann smiled faintly, once again leaving no traces of his feelings in the ebb and flow of the Force.

"It was the first Sith Empire to form after the hyperlanes opened in the wake of the Gulag Plague," Kadann said.

The newcomer - he suspected - was one of many who would come for a closer look at the two jedi in the midst of the event.

"Darth Moridin was deposed by Ashin Varanin. Many of us thought she had died in the field, killed by her own as the battle turned. I suppose that is why I bring her up young Lady Varanin."

"I am surprised they don't teach you of that time, when even the leaders of the current Sith Empire were just learning their craft."

He offered a respectful tilt of his head. The last thing he wanted to so was to cause trouble himself. He would wait and watch and listen. No one was going to try and take the old failure out onto the dance floor.