Private Harbinger's Fury

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn ​

The tide rolled in with a soft hiss, retreating with the same languid rhythm as a lover's teasing caress. Each wave licked at the pristine sands of Rakata Prime, leaving delicate trails of foam before surrendering to the vast embrace of the sea. The sky was painted in hues of deep violet and burnt gold, the dying light of the sun casting long, sinuous shadows across the shore. It was the kind of beauty that lesser minds would call divine. To Serina Calis, it was merely another fleeting moment in a galaxy that did not yet kneel to her.

She stood at the water's edge, where the heat of the sand met the cool kiss of the tide, her crimson and magenta-clad form a stark contrast against the twilight. The glow of her bodice pulsed in time with her heartbeat, the angular designs across her armor whispering with unnatural energy, as if the Force itself coiled around her in anticipation. Her golden hair spilled freely beneath her deep hood, tousled by the warm ocean breeze. A lesser being might have appeared angelic in such a setting, bathed in the radiance of the dying sun, but Serina was no angel.

She was the storm.

Or, at least, she was meant to be.

A frown marred her perfect lips, the taste of dissatisfaction bitter on her tongue. She flexed her fingers, gloved and graceful, feeling the static build beneath her skin, a restless charge begging for release. It was pathetic. After all this time, all her ambition, all her stolen knowledge—her mastery over the Dark Side was still incomplete. The Jedi had trained her in useless, pacifistic nonsense, whispering about balance and restraint. And she, clever, beautiful, superior Serina, had once humored them. What a waste.

She lifted her right hand, fingers curling as she reached inward, calling upon the raw fury that slumbered within her. Her power was there—dormant, eager, aching to be unleashed. She willed it to manifest, to coil and crackle into existence, to answer her. A flicker of violet light danced between her fingertips, delicate as a lover's sigh, before sputtering into nothing. The failure sent a violent tremor of irritation down her spine.

Unacceptable.

She exhaled through her nose, inhaling the salt-laden air, letting it burn against the frustration welling inside her chest. She was more than this. She was power incarnate, not some trembling acolyte struggling with basic sorcery. How long had it been since she had truly tested herself? Since she had pushed her body, her mind, her connection to the Force beyond the pitiful, civilized limitations others sought to impose upon her?

Too long.

She needed to rekindle the fire, to take control, to wield the Dark Side as it was meant to be wielded—without fear, without hesitation, without mercy.

Her smirk returned, slow and sinuous, a serpent winding around prey. She had always enjoyed exerting control—over people, over knowledge, over the very fabric of reality itself. And yet, here she stood, unable to summon something as simple as Force Lightning with any degree of mastery. It was a laughable irony, and Serina did not appreciate being the subject of a joke.

Another wave rolled in, the water cool against her boots, the ocean whispering secrets she had no interest in hearing. She was not here to listen. She was here to dominate.

Stretching her fingers once more, she reached deeper this time, clawing into the abyss of her own willpower, summoning not just the Force, but the emotions that would make it bow to her whims. The Jedi had been wrong to suppress anger, passion, desire—all the things that made existence worth savoring. And savoring, after all, was something Serina had always excelled at.

She thought of the things that ignited her, that made her breath hitch and her blood sing. The thrill of conquest. The sensation of fingers tracing down the nape of her neck in a moment of stolen pleasure. The way a rival's voice trembled when they realized they had already lost, before she had even lifted a hand. The rush of knowing that she was the one in control, that she dictated the flow of the game, and that everyone else—whether they realized it or not—was merely playing by her rules.

Yes. That was what she needed.

Her smirk widened, the glow of her armor reflecting in her piercing blue eyes as she finally let go.

A spark. A flicker. Then, all at once, the air around her crackled to life.

Electricity snapped from her fingertips, a jagged lance of violet lightning arcing through the humid air. The charge danced along her arm, licking the patterns of her gauntlet, spreading hungrily as it fed on the raw passion coursing through her veins. The power was imperfect, volatile, unruly—but it was hers.

And gods, it felt exquisite.

The first strike was unrefined, more a burst of energy than a controlled stream, but Serina did not falter. She adjusted, coaxing the storm rather than commanding it, shaping it with the same delicate touch she had used to manipulate so many unsuspecting fools in her lifetime. The Dark Side was not an instrument of brute force; it was a lover, one that demanded seduction as much as strength.

The realization sent a pulse of pleasure through her—this was what she had been missing. Not just training, not just practice, but indulgence. The Force was not something to be mastered through rigid control alone. It was meant to be relished, to be savored, to be made hers in the most intimate way possible.

The second strike came sharper, more precise. She turned her wrist, directing the energy toward the sand, watching as the lightning kissed the grains and turned them to glass. Beautiful.

A breathless chuckle slipped past her lips, her body humming with pleasure at the sensation of raw power bending to her will. It was intoxicating. She wanted more.

She deserved more.

The ocean hissed as another bolt lashed out, this time directed toward the waves, sending ripples of energy through the water. The air smelled of ozone, of salt and fire, of things untamed and wild.

Serina inhaled deeply, exalting in the moment, in the thrill of rediscovery. She had forgotten, for too long, what it felt like to truly own her power. To revel in it. To seduce it.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Rakata Prime
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Equipment: Vibro-sword, vibro-daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Serina Calis

Eira was approaching another world she had not visited before today. A benefit she was finding with joining the Sith Order was the opportunity to explore new worlds and seek out personal glory and opportunities. She was here to follow a lead she had read when going over the archives on Jutrand. Rakata Prime was home to many lost technology and powers, the empire having fallen from memory several millennia ago. Eira was curious if there was anything she could find, any hints of those powers, something that had been overlooked and something she could use to demonstrate her power. Demonstrate the growing potential inside Eira as well as give her a chance to impress her Master and other mentor.

Landing the ship best she could on the planet. Travelling around more meant that she was forcing herself to become more accustomed to the cockpit and how one must pilot a ship. She was sure that Quinn Varanin would have hired her a pilot if she asked. But Eira was determined to be self-reliant on her piloting skills. Though she doubted that she would be flying herself or anyone into a combat zone, that took a level of skill that Eira just did not have yet. However, she was sure that some day there could be a chance she would be a halfway decent pilot.

Stepping off the ramp, the beautiful views. The sights of a world she had never seen before struck out towards Eira. However, she did not linger. The beautiful sights and the natural grace of the world did not matter to her. Eira had enough of natural beauty on Dantooine. No, she preferred practicality of city worlds. The dark, destructiveness of a planet such as Dromund Kaas. The harsh desert of Korriban which held secrets of the Order. Or even the wilderness of jungle planets like Kashyyyk and Dxun. People could hide there and hide anything there, proven by lost tombs being rediscovered over the years.

Pulling out her tablet, Eira looked over the data that she had. There was mention of a potential information cache somewhere on the world. Something related to the Force. It was vague and there had been no further mentions since most of the Rakatan Empire had been lost to memory. Eira let out a sigh as she wondered if this would be another wild goose chase. Was it something she could afford to waste time on before she went on a Lightsaber building mission with Quinn. Pulling out the corrupted Jedi crystal she had stolen not long after the Sith Order, she studied the crystal between her fingers. She hadn't gotten the chance to attempt her Lightsaber construction, or learn how to use an actual Lightsaber. Supposedly the feel of the actual thing was very different to the practice sabers she had used before now.

Storing the crystal back in a hidden pocket on her person, Eira knew she was too stubborn to give up now. She had time before her meeting with Quinn and Eira was determined to come away from this trip with something. Something that she could present the Order. A gift from her and a demonstration of her abilities and commitment.

Walking out, Eira took direction from where the sun was falling, finding north from that position and heading forward. The trip was going be a hike, but that was fine. Eira enjoyed the lone company she held, it was something she was used to since she had never been one for making friends. And recent events demonstrated she was poor at maintaining long term intimate relationships.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn ​

Serina watched from her vantage point, perched atop a smooth outcrop of ancient stone that jutted out above the shoreline, her form bathed in the violet glow of the lingering storm she had summoned. Her fingers still crackled with residual energy, the air around her alive with the scent of ozone. She exhaled slowly, stretching her limbs with feline grace, before tilting her head at the approaching figure in the distance.

Eira.

Now, that was an unexpected pleasure.

Serina allowed herself a slow, indulgent smile as she leaned back against the stone, draping one leg over the other in a deliberately relaxed posture. Even from here, she could see Eira's purposeful stride, the way she carried herself with that ever-so-fascinating blend of determination and rigid self-control. It was amusing. How long had it been since they had crossed paths? Not long enough for Serina to have forgotten the striking image of her in that lovely black dress, a vision of elegance and danger all wrapped into one delectable package.

A pity she wasn't wearing it now.

"Oh, Eira," Serina purred, the words carrying across the open air, smooth as silk yet laced with quiet amusement. "I was hoping to see you again. Though I must admit, I'm terribly disappointed. Where is that lovely dress of yours? This utilitarian look is so… uninspired."

She made no immediate move to descend, no rush to close the distance. Instead, she let her words linger, teasing, probing. The interplay of conversation, of control, was always more enjoyable when savored. And Eira, with her stubborn nature and her ever-present need to prove herself, was such a delightful subject for these little games.

"I can't imagine Quinn sent you here," Serina mused, her blue eyes gleaming with interest as she slowly, elegantly, rose from her perch. The glow of her magenta and crimson armor pulsed against the deepening twilight, an ethereal contrast against the backdrop of sea and sand. "No, this seems like a personal endeavor. A search for something lost, something forgotten. How intriguing."

Serina took her time descending from the outcrop, her steps deliberate, unhurried. When she reached the shore, the waves lapped at her boots, and she regarded Eira with an expression that was equal parts curiosity and amusement. "Tell me, darling," she continued, her voice carrying a velvet edge, "what exactly is it you're looking for? Some hidden power? An artifact to impress your dear Master? Or is this a far more personal pursuit? You do seem the type to chase something just out of reach."

She tilted her head slightly, studying Eira, her smirk widening just enough to betray her amusement. "Or perhaps you're here to impress someone else entirely."

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Rakata Prime
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Equipment: Vibro-sword, vibro-daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Serina Calis

Eira could tell she was being watched. It was something she had felt right away and she was not surprised by this development. There were going to be other sentient life on this world. She was just waiting for the presence to announce themselves for her to know whether they were a threat or not. Eira had been trained by many mentors on how to deal with potential threats and Eira had her own preferred methods when dealing with those that she did not trust. And trust was not something that Eira shared with just anyone. Breathing in deeply, when she felt the presence shift and a voice call out her name, Eira turned to face the person with her arm extended and lightning crackling in the air. Controlled and ready to strike towards Serina if Eira had deemed her a threat.

However, it dissipated in the air as Eira released the deep purple lightning that she had conjured. Still not the powerful red that she knew it could be some day.

Shaking her head, "dresses are unpractical for field work. If I was here to entertain someone, I might have considered it." Eira stated in a cool tone behind her mask. Her voice deep and husky as she spoke. "As for whether it is inspired or not, are we aiming for originality? I would point out that I have seen someone with a similar style attire to your own. So, maybe neither of us are as original as we like when wearing our field work attire."

"Can you not? Well, I do not just follow the orders of Quinn. I have other trainers as well, and they send me on missions." Keeping vague about the work she did for Carnifex. Eira held secrets of her own and was not going to show her hand in the reasoning of being here to Serina. While Quinn seemed to enjoy the company of the other woman, Eira had met Serina once and it was brief given she was distracted by a Togruta.

Continuing her walk forward as Serina probed for more information out of Eira, she smirked behind the mask. "Well, everything is lost until it is found, is it not?" Eira retorted, not giving a drop of information unless she wanted to surrender it. "Do I? Strange, because I have been able to grasp everything and everyone I have wanted when I attempt to." Eira countered with her natural red eyes looking over to Serina. "Perhaps chasing something you can't grasp is a trait of yours, you project onto others."

"Serina, darling, if I was trying to impress a person, I would not be dress so... uninspired, as you described my attire." Eira pointed out as she continued her trek forward. Not afraid to trade jabs and words with another. It was something she did plenty while on Dantooine and it was something that she had done plenty when she first trained in the Sith Order.

It was only because Quinn had been so unnaturally kind to Eira that she occasionally brought out a different side to the dark acolyte. Her sarcasm and sass, was a usual default in her personality.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn ​

Serina's smirk curled with indulgent amusement as she watched Eira summon and then dismiss her lightning, the flickering tendrils of deep purple energy dissipating into the humid air. Oh, how utterly delightful. The way Eira moved, the way she spoke—so guarded, so precise. It was a dance of control, of maintaining the upper hand. Serina adored that. Nothing was more intoxicating than peeling away the layers of someone so determined to keep themselves wrapped in mystery.

"Mm," she hummed appreciatively, stepping closer, letting the space between them narrow. "A pity. I do love a woman in a dress, particularly one who knows how to wear it. But I suppose you're right—dresses are impractical for such... strenuous endeavors." The words dripped with playful insinuation, her eyes never leaving Eira's as she took another slow, deliberate step forward.

She let silence stretch between them for a moment, enough for the weight of her presence to settle like silk against bare skin. The ocean air carried the faint scent of ozone, mingling with something uniquely Eira—an electric sharpness beneath the mask of control.

"Ah, but you wound me," Serina mused, feigning a pout at the critique of her attire. "Though I do appreciate the attempt to turn my own words against me. Clever. But let's be honest, darling—I make this look good." She gestured elegantly to herself, letting the glow of her magenta-lined armor catch the dimming light of the sky. "If someone else has dared to imitate me, well… Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, isn't it?"

Her voice lowered to a rich purr as she tilted her head, eyes half-lidded in amusement. "Not that I mind. I do so love setting trends."

The game continued, a delightful back-and-forth of veiled words and sharper barbs, but Serina was not so easily deterred. Eira was holding her cards close to her chest, teasing with half-truths and deliberate vagueness. How frustrating. How utterly delicious.

She let Eira's deflections settle, filing away the mention of Quinn and the vague reference to her other "trainers." That was interesting. It wouldn't be Kaila, no, the tensions were far too high. Someone else within the Sith's tangled web of power? Maybe the Butcher King, like Lirka? or Malum? Oh, there were threads here to unravel, and Serina was more than willing to take her time pulling at them.

The smirk never left her lips as Eira threw her words back at her, red eyes sharp and assessing. "Do you, now?" Serina murmured, the amusement in her tone laced with something darker. "Grasping what you want—who you want—when you attempt it?" She tsked softly, a teasing chide. "Such confidence. Such certainty. And yet, here you are, on this little venture, grasping at something still just out of reach. Are you so sure you never chase, darling?"

Serina let the weight of the words settle before she closed the distance further, her steps measured, almost lazy, as she came alongside Eira's path, walking with her now rather than observing from afar.

"Oh, Eira, dearest," she exhaled, her voice dropping into a low, sultry drawl. "If I'm projecting, then I must say—I'm in excellent company. You wound me again, truly." Her fingers brushed against the air just beside Eira's arm, not quite touching, but close enough that the suggestion was there, tantalizingly unspoken. "I can't help but wonder… if you truly have everything you desire, then why do you still hunt for more?"

A wicked smile played at the corners of her lips as she let her gaze drag, unabashed, from the mask covering Eira's face down to the fine curve of her body beneath her practical, uninspired armor. "And if you were trying to impress someone," she murmured, the words decadent with suggestion, "I'd certainly hope you'd put in a little more effort. What a tragedy that would be, darling—you of all people, failing to captivate."

Serina sighed theatrically, placing a hand to her chest as though deeply, deeply wounded. "But alas, I suppose I'll just have to imagine what might have been, had you come to me dressed to truly leave an impression." Her eyes gleamed wickedly as she tilted her head toward Eira. "Shame. I rather think you'd enjoy being admired."

A pause. A teasing flicker of a smirk.

Then she turned her gaze ahead, as if she hadn't just dripped those words in silken temptation. "Now, tell me, darling—what is it you really think you'll find here? Surely you don't mind indulging my curiosity. After all… I'm being so very charming."

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Rakata Prime
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Equipment: Vibro-sword, vibro-daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Serina Calis

Eira did not respond to the comments on Serina's shame on the lack of dress attire that Eira had. It did not matter what to Eira what Serina wished her to be dressed as. Eira was more than comfortable wearing every attire she had. Whether it was the training robes she wore around Jutrand Academy, the gothic style shorts, shirt and fishnet stockings, the gothic styled dress or this. There was going to be a time where she would be more armoured, adopting a much darker visage. Eira wished to incite fear into those who dared to cross her path. Fear of someone they would never see the face of. That was Eira's aim for later down the line.

"Is it them imitating you if I saw them wear it first, and wear just as well as you did." Eira had only met Nyxira the once on Drumond Kaas, very briefly before she met with the governor of the world. Nyxira definitely had a similar sort of attire to Serina and Eira did not think much of it personally. Clothing was replaceable, fashion changed, what people enjoyed changed over time. Eira did not think it mattered much and she often changed her style and outfits.

Fit the setting you were in.

Shaking her head, "I do not grasp. I grab what I wish and I simply take it." Eira corrected. "Darling, you assume I am still grasping, reaching for something out of reach. If it was out of reach, I would not be here." Eira stated firmly, "I do not chase. Chasing things takes effort that I do not wish to waste. If I wished to reach for something, why not allure it to me and snap at it when it gets too close." She stated in a cool tone as Eira waved her hand idly, not sure why Serina seemed to be determined that she must be someone who enjoys chasing things.

Eira never really chased anything or anyone. They came to her, sought her out.

"Did I say I have everything I wanted?" Her sharp eyes scanned over to Serina, "you seem to be making a lot of assumptions about me. So far, all false. I would say, I'm disappointed with your attempts to manipulate me." Eira was not slow on what Serina was attempting to do. The use of darling, the tone of voice, the probing questions and the way that Serina was focusing on Eira's beauty and the way she looked in the dress. It was a focus on attempted love bombing to work her way inside Eira.

Eira did not fall for tricks she had played on others.

"I can leave you to your apparent vivid imagination. But I will tell you, I did not know you would be here. And I am unlikely going to seek you out." Eira sighed and faced Serina, "I do not think you can offer me anything more than what I already have. You would have to be the one to demonstrate to me that you have more worth." Eira was putting the pressure on Serina to demonstrate why Eira should care about her and Eira was not the one who needed to put any effort in.

Eira shrugged her shoulders, "can I not wish to visit a location I have not been to before? Travelling the galaxy, seeing new worlds. Wouldn't you agree that is important for a young woman?" Still refusing to share what she was actually being here for. Eira held no trust and the supposed charm that Serina was giving felt very false.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn ​

Serina observed Eira with a quiet, predatory amusement, letting the woman's words wash over her as though they were little more than waves breaking against a shore she had no intention of yielding to. The posturing, the sharp retorts, the deliberate disinterest—it was all so fascinating, and not in the way Eira might have imagined.

Serina had spent years—perhaps her entire life—dissecting people, peeling them apart like delicate fruit to see what lay beneath the carefully cultivated layers. She did not simply listen to words. She listened to the pauses between them, the weight of their cadence, the meaning behind what wasn't being said. And oh, Eira was practically dripping with hidden truths, the kind that she had convinced herself were so well concealed.

She thought herself impenetrable.

Serina knew better.

It was not arrogance that made her confident in her assessment, but experience. People like Eira—those who wore their armor in the form of sharp words, who wielded cold dismissiveness as a blade—were the ones who had been hurt before. Deeply. Perhaps not in ways that were obvious or even traditional, but Serina had seen the signs before. There was something in the way Eira spoke, in the way she deflected, that suggested she had learned long ago not to reach for things because reaching implied risk. Reaching implied the possibility of being denied.

And people like Eira—people who had crafted their self-worth around the illusion of effortless power—hated being denied.

She said she did not chase. That she did not grasp, did not reach. That things came to her, drawn by allure rather than effort. And yet… why, then, did she speak of it with such deliberate force? Why did she need Serina to believe it? Why did she need to believe it herself?

Serina had played this game many times before, with people across the galaxy—men and women who had tried to wield cold indifference like a shield, only to reveal the cracks beneath it when pressure was applied just so.

Eira was fascinating because she wasn't lying—at least, not fully. She did take what she wanted, and she was skilled in bending others to her will. But that wasn't the whole picture, was it? No, there was something deeper. Serina could see it. It was in the way Eira's words were chosen with such precision, as though ensuring no slip-ups, no glimpses behind the mask. It was in the way she held herself, the way she turned her head slightly too late, as though weighing the consequences of even something as simple as eye contact.

Eira's life had been a carefully curated exercise in control.

Because once, a long time ago, she must have felt powerless.

Serina would not push. Not yet. No, people like Eira did not break when pressed too directly. They snapped. And Serina was far too skilled to let something so interesting slip away from her grasp.

So instead, she let the silence stretch between them, savoring it, letting Eira's words settle in the air. Letting the weight of her own mind wrap around them, taste them.

And then, at last, she smiled.

Not the slow, teasing smirk of before, nor the sultry, languid grin that suggested she was playing at something deeper. This smile was different. It was softer. More knowing.

"Oh, Eira," she said, her voice quieter now, thoughtful rather than playful. "You exhaust yourself with all these walls you put up, don't you?"

A pause. Not long, but deliberate.

"You think I want something from you. That I have some ploy, some angle. That I want to manipulate you, bend you to my will." She tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "But tell me, darling—why does that assumption matter so much to you? Why does it bother you?"

She let her gaze drift toward the horizon for a moment, as if allowing the wind to carry her words away. "People who do not care do not spend their time telling others they do not care."

And then, just like that, the knowing smirk returned, sharper now. More dangerous.

"But I do enjoy watching you try to convince yourself otherwise."

With that, Serina turned, her cape billowing as she stepped past Eira, as though the conversation had never held any weight at all. As though she wasn't peeling Eira apart, layer by layer, thought by thought.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Rakata Prime
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Equipment: Vibro-sword, vibro-daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Serina Calis

Pausing in her hike, Eira let out a yawn and stretch her full figure. Making sure her limbs were relaxed and stretching her body while she idly listened to Serina go on. Assumptions were the bane of Serina it seemed. Putting ideologies onto Eira that she had no basis on which they were actually there. Eira had not demonstrated anything beside placing doubts in the assumptions that Serina threw towards Eira. She was not fazed by anything and Eira didn't care about any attempts to peel the layers of herself. There was nothing that Serina would find. Eira had trained by some of the best within the Sith Order and she knew how to control the narrative as well as how to avoid manipulation of another.

She hiked a bit further, turning around to face the ocean from where she was. Eira took in the sight and gave the air of just being here to enjoy the view from another world. It was different to Dantooine for sure. It was not a world focused on farming, it was different to Jutrand and the academy, there was not a darkness here that she enjoyed. Eira enjoyed the tainting of worlds that happened. Sitting down and looking over to the view she had hiked to see, Eira knew she was refusing to continue on her quest.

That could wait, she would allow it to wait since she would have further opportunities to pursue it. Eira was not sacrificing her find to Serina by guiding the other woman to where she was going.

"Walls? Says the woman attempting to pry at my secrets but surrenders nothing." Eira responded, she sighed, still not showing any impressed look to Serina.

Eira could tell that Serina believed herself unreadable, but Eira saw through the disguise, she saw the intentions. "Did I say it bothered me? Once again, seems you are putting in my mouth." Eira let out a disappointed sigh, "your attempts at mind games, seems they would be more effective on the simple minded." Setting a limit on the effectiveness of Serina's abilities. Pushing buttons and seeing what reactions she could get.

"Do they not? How do they express their ability to not care?" Eira was curious to see what explanation Serina would provide for how someone would act to not care. "Because I would assume, stating such and then acting disinteresting would be very much the way someone would express their lack of caring."

Eira then shifted her gaze back to the dipping sunlight on the ocean's horizon. Breathing in deeply, she watched the view with a soft chuckle and feeling quite relaxed in her sitting position. Waiting to see if Serina would get bored with Eira now.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn ​

Serina let out a slow, sultry laugh as she listened to Eira's words, shaking her head as if truly, deeply entertained. Oh, darling, you are trying so very hard. She could see it now—the careful deflections, the meticulous control of narrative, the deliberately measured reactions. It was the kind of effort that only those who did care put in.

Eira believed herself unreadable, believed she had mastered the art of avoiding manipulation. But Serina had known far too many creatures who lived behind walls to be impressed by their existence. If anything, the sheer force with which Eira insisted on dismissing her attempts told Serina everything she needed to know.

She smiled—something slow and indulgent, as if savoring the moment.

"Darling," she murmured, stepping closer, the glow of her magenta-lined armor casting eerie light against the twilight, "you don't actually need me to surrender anything. I am not the one struggling with my own truths."

She let her fingers hover just slightly near Eira's shoulder, as though she might touch but chose not to, the suggestion of intimacy always more effective than the act itself. "You're rather transparent, you know. For someone who claims not to care, you work so very hard at making sure I know it." Her lips curled into something teasing, wicked. "You yawn. You stretch. You sigh so dramatically, as though I am simply exhausting you. But that's just another kind of performance, isn't it?"

Her voice dipped lower, the intimate cadence of a whisper brushing against the air. "You don't care? No, you simply must be certain I believe you don't care. That is the difference, Eira, and that is what you fail to hide."

She took a slow, measured step, shifting just enough so that Eira would have to acknowledge her presence in her periphery even as she gazed out over the ocean. Serina's tone was laced with silken amusement, but the weight of her words carried something deeper—an assertion of control, of knowing.

"How do people who don't care express it?" she echoed, tasting the question before responding. "They don't need to tell you. They simply are. They don't play games of indifference, they don't seek control over conversations to dictate who has the upper hand." She let the words settle for a moment, her smirk widening ever so slightly. "And they certainly don't let a single interaction turn into a battle of wills, now, do they?"

She let her gaze sweep over Eira, calculating. How long would you continue this little game, darling? How long before I show you just how easily I can turn the rules against you?

Serina let the silence hang between them for just the right amount of time—enough to make it feel deliberate, enough to ensure Eira was waiting for her next words.

Then, she struck with her first blow.

"You know," she mused, her voice impossibly soft, "I did find something quite interesting at that little party. Not something ancient, not something hidden, but something… rather obvious to anyone paying attention."

Her smirk was pure cruelty now—soft, slow, venom wrapped in silk.

"I saw how you looked at Kaila."

The name alone was a knife, a carefully honed one. Serina was not simply throwing barbs—she was watching. Waiting. Hunting.

The way Eira's gaze had lingered, the small, nearly imperceptible shift in posture, the moments where control had slipped—all so fleeting, all so insignificant to anyone not paying attention.

But Serina always paid attention.

She let the words sit between them like a dropped match against dry kindling. Then, she tilted her head slightly, her voice featherlight.

"Tell me, darling. Do you think she noticed?"

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Rakata Prime
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Equipment: Vibro-sword, vibro-daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Serina Calis

Eira leaned back as she sat down. "Really? Surprising since I have long since accepted my truths." Eira knew herself well enough to know the truths and she held conviction with what she said being the truth. She knew how to insist what she stated was the truth and that anyone attempting to argue otherwise would be considered a liar in her mind.

"Was it a show? I just did what I wanted when I wanted to. If you believe that to be a show, that tells me more about you and how you act than it does about my intentions." Eira stated coolly. She had not made a show of her stretching to be anything more than simply removing the tiredness from her body. She was learning more on how Serina probed and attempted to get under the skin of others. It was a curious watch but Eira was confident and self-assured to know that she was not concern with Serina gaining anything on her today.

Listening to the explanation of someone who does care but hiding the fact that they don't care. "Ah, sounds more like how you are acting than I am. At least from my point of view." Eira pointed out as she leaned back and enjoyed the view as best as she could. "Perhaps you are just thinking you see yourself in me and that is blinding you from the truth?" Eira mentioned idly.

Removing the mask as Serina mentioned the way Eira had looked at Kaila, how obvious it had been. As soon as the mask came away from her face, Eira started laughing. Laughing deeply. "Oh." She smirked and shook her head, "you really only took that away from the party? Perhaps that Togruta distracted you a lot more than you will admit." Eira pointed out. There was a lot that was very obvious on display at the party, if Serina only took away that Eira had been flirtatious towards Kaila a little, then that was truly amusing in how blind she had been.

That was not the most interesting thing to take away from the party.

"I will say... You ran away from the group as fast as you could during the party." Eira mentioned, if Serina wanted to probe in that direction, Eira would probe back. "You couldn't get away from the fun of the group fast enough. Perhaps because you were uncomfortable with things that you were seeing. Disappointment perhaps?" Eira hinting that Serina might have unrequited feelings for someone else in the group and was fleeing the sight of that unrequited love enjoying the company of someone else.

When asked if Kaila noticed, Eira laughed again, "Kaila noticed. She has always noticed. I'm sure she noticed you too."

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn ​

Serina's smirk widened, curling like a blade unsheathed in the dim light. Oh, darling, you should not have given me an opening.

Eira's laughter rang out, confident, dismissive—perhaps even genuine. But Serina knew better than to take laughter at face value. Laughter was a shield, a performance, an attempt to assert control where control was slipping. It's not working, my little pet.

Serina did not flinch at the mention of her own departure from the party, nor did her expression flicker at the suggestion of disappointment. If Eira thought she could probe and dig as Serina did, she was playing a fool's game. There was a difference between wielding words like a weapon and merely throwing them in blind retaliation.

Serina did not throw.

Serina struck.

And strike she did.

She stepped closer—slow, deliberate, the sound of her boots crunching against the sand lost beneath the hush of the waves. Eira had removed her mask, and Serina took her time drinking in the sight, her blue eyes dark with something unreadable.

"Ah, yes. Kaila noticed you." Serina murmured, letting the words roll off her tongue with honeyed cruelty. "Noticed how you had to settle for a servant girl's hands on your waist instead of hers."

Her smirk turned razor-sharp, biting into the wound before Eira even had the chance to brace herself. "Tell me, darling, did it burn? Did it sting, having to dance with some nameless nobody while she watched, utterly unmoved?"

Serina tilted her head, her voice lowering into something rich, decadent, yet undeniably venomous. "And Quinn, oh, Quinn… how she dismissed you so effortlessly." She let out a low, breathy chuckle, taking great pleasure in the way she drew out the moment. "Did it bruise you, dear? Being waved off like a petulant child? Left to grasp at scraps while the actual players of the night moved in circles above you?"

She leaned in now, just slightly, her breath warm against the cooling air, the glow of her magenta armor casting eerie reflections in Eira's red eyes. "But then again, you don't chase, do you?" she whispered, saccharine-sweet. "No, no, you take. You simply grab what you want, and yet… she is gone, isn't she?"

She let the silence hang like a dagger suspended by a single thread.

Kaila. Gone. Untouchable.

Serina straightened, satisfied with the damage she was already inflicting, but she was not done. No, she wanted more.

Her eyes roamed over Eira, lazily, drinking in the full figure the woman had so carelessly stretched out as if this entire exchange was beneath her. The feigned nonchalance only made Serina's next words cut deeper.

"You know," she mused, her voice silk-wrapped steel, "I do wonder—out of everyone at that party, I was the only one to compliment you." Her smirk turned wicked. "The only one who truly looked at you. Isn't that funny?"

She leaned back now, giving Eira space not out of respect, but out of sheer, calculated indulgence. "Perhaps," she continued, with the air of someone utterly victorious, "perhaps I am the only one who finds you worth looking at anymore."

She let that last sentence linger, heavy with meaning, heavy with the undeniable truth behind the barb.

She had seen it all that night.

Eira, pretending not to care. Pretending not to look. Pretending not to want.

And yet, here they were.

Serina, the one speaking to her now. Serina, the one pressing close, the one tearing into her, the one acknowledging her.

Not Kaila. Not Quinn.

Only Serina.

And wasn't that deliciously tragic?

Serina let the moment linger, savoring the tension in the air like the aftertaste of a decadent, forbidden pleasure. She watched Eira carefully, her smirk widening ever so slightly as she leaned in one last time—so close now that the space between them felt like a deliberate mockery of intimacy.

Then, she whispered, her voice dripping with slow, deliberate poison:

"But don't worry, darling. If the worst comes to pass, and you find yourself cold and alone, unwanted and untouched, I'm sure you can always find another servant girl to press her trembling little hands against you."

She tilted her head, letting the final knife sink in, her eyes burning with something wicked, something utterly, devastatingly cruel.

"After all, that's all you're ever going to be good enough for—taking leftovers from the hands of your betters and pretending it was your choice."

Serina let the words coil around them like a vice, then finally, finally, stepped back, her smirk positively serpentine as she let the silence that followed do the rest of the work.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Rakata Prime
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Equipment: Vibro-sword, vibro-daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Serina Calis

Eira held back a derisive laugh as soon as Serina attempted to push Eira's buttons on the issue of Kaila. Kaila had been someone to Eira once, but that was far enough back that Eira had moved forward and she was glad that Kaila had as well. Not having the Sith Knight wanting her dead or accusing her of manipulation at every meeting made life easier for Eira. It also made manipulating others easier as well. However, her laugh would only be considered further evidence of Serina's delusions on Eira.

"Oh, Kirie is not a nameless nobody. And I am sure you wouldn't dare state that to anyone other than myself from that group." Eira knew how important Kirie was to both Kaila and Quinn, if they had heard the way that Serina spoke of Kirie, then there would not be much left of the failing temptress. It was an interesting approach to attempt to bruise Eira's ego, but Eira had a lot of knowledge that Serina clearly did not. And she had gained something more from her countering.

Eira was getting under Serina's skin.

This catty attitude was a demonstration that Serina was hurt, she was lashing out to attempt to stoke fury or upset in Eira. To get Eira riled up and slip up in a similar manner that Serina had been. However, the acolyte remained cool and composed. Still admiring the coastal view from her position. "Were you? Or did you leave and avoid the conversation when compliments and flirty conversations was being shared with the group? Perhaps the idea of others demonstrating interest in others that weren't you, did that make you uncomfortable?"

"Perhaps, you don't like the idea that Kaila and Quinn will not show you the attention that you crave them to?" Eira noted that Serina had focused on both Kaila and Quinn in the attack to Eira, seeing that Serina was reflecting her own issues onto Eira. It made sense that she was reflecting the same issue of being jealous and deprived of attention.

Tilting her head from side to side, "that Togruta... that was someone nameless as well, wasn't it? Seems that you really do seem to put yourself in my shoes, but don't have the insight to realise, that doesn't make me you." Eira chuckled, letting out another disappointed sigh.

"Dangerous to believe that Kirie is beneath you Serina, you might find that you are not ranked as highly as your ego wishes you to be. You aren't even Sith." Eira raised an eyebrow, cocked disappointedly, "you also don't have the power to back your bold words. If I was to strike you down here and now, who would come chasing me for revenge?" Eira's tone was not threatening but there was a coldness that deliberately highlighting who was truly the lonely one. "Because I know for certain, you kill me and there will be no rock you can hide under from a certain Sith Lord's wrath."

Eira then grinned wickedly, "perhaps I'm not the one who feels lonely." She winked devilishly to Serina.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn ​

Serina stood still for a moment, her expression unreadable, her blue eyes flickering with something dangerous. Then, her lips parted, and the slowest, most decadent laughter spilled from her throat—low, husky, dripping with the sheer pleasure of it all.

"Oh, Eira," she sighed, almost breathless with amusement. "You really are delicious."

She let her fingers trail lazily down her own arm, as if indulging in the feel of her own skin, savoring the tension in the air between them. Force, this was divine. This was better than seduction, better than any whispered tease in the dead of night. The dance, the tension, the push and pull of sharp tongues and sharper minds—it was almost enough to make her shudder with satisfaction.

And yet, poor, naïve Eira thought she was in control.

Serina stepped closer, too close, invading Eira's space, her presence curling around the acolyte like a thick, intoxicating perfume. "So cold. So detached. So utterly convinced that you have the upper hand," she purred, her voice thick with wicked amusement. "And yet, darling, you keep responding to me. You keep giving me more."

Her smirk curled, slow and indulgent, as she let her gaze drag over Eira, drinking her in like fine wine. "Oh, I do love this, you know," she continued, her tone dropping into something dark and filthy. "The way your voice gets just that little bit sharper when I get too close, the way you bristle at the thought of anyone thinking you're desperate for affection. But that's the thing, isn't it, darling?"

Serina tilted her head, letting her lips part just slightly as if she were savoring the taste of the moment, the sheer perversity of it all.

"No one actually cares about you."

She leaned in, her breath warm against Eira's ear, her tone thick and syrupy, obscene in its pleasure. "You're a pretty little thing, a well-trained pet with just enough sharpness to amuse your betters. But no one—not Quinn, not Kaila, not even your secret precious Sith Lord—sees you as anything more than a useful, cold manipulative child playing at power."

Serina laughed again, breathy and sinful.

"You think Quinn is different, don't you? That she sees something in you. But she dismissed you. Flicked you away like an afterthought. And Kaila?" Serina sighed, rolling her eyes in mock pity. "Oh, darling. She's moved on. She's been with people who actually matter to her. You? You're just a ghost in her past. And the only reason she hasn't crushed you beneath her heel is because she doesn't even think about you anymore."

Serina let the words hang between them, tasting the air, waiting, watching.

Then, her smirk deepened, her eyes gleaming with something utterly perverse. "Tell me, Eira, when was the last time someone touched you because they wanted to?"

She took another slow, measured step, her voice turning obscene, dripping with velvet filth. "Not because they had to, not because you coaxed them into it, not because it was convenient—but because they wanted you, needed you, ached for you the way hunger aches in the bones."

Her lips curled as she tilted her head, watching, waiting, taunting.

"No answer?" she cooed, letting her voice dip into something low and filthy. "Force, that's the real tragedy, isn't it?" She let out another breathy laugh, shaking her head. "No one is chasing you, darling. No one wants you. You are utterly, completely, and deliciously alone."

Serina let her fingers ghost just barely over Eira's shoulder—not a touch, just the whisper of possibility, just enough to mock her with the sheer absence of warmth. "And yet here I am, the only one who actually pays attention to you."

She pulled back now, slow, indulgent, licking her lips as if savoring the taste of victory. As if she was about to offer the apple from the tree, the original sin.

"The only one who can fix everything."

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Rakata Prime
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Equipment: Vibro-sword, vibro-daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Serina Calis

The expression from Serina was very readable. It was a demonstration that Eira had hit a nerve. Struck at Serina hard enough that it flickered violent thoughts to swirl around in her mind. It was amusing to see Serina attempt poorly at reclaiming the upper hand. A feat that Eira knew she had never had. It was only justified as Serina attempted to get closer. Too close.

There was a coldness in the crimson blood eyes of Eira Dyn. The acolyte had decided that the conversation was now circling, spinning wheels since all Serina was attempting to do was estrange Eira from Quinn, from those she had grown to respect. It was poorly done and Eira could only assume that Serina was too frazzled by Eira's resistance, her ability to put Eira in her place was just childish and quite laughable in the way that it felt like a six year old was attempting to make her feel bad.

"If I was so unwanted as you suggest Serina, then strike at me. Give me a wound that others will see. I know you want to. I know I struck a nerve when I informed you that you had been read easier than you had read me." Eira goaded Serina. "Let's see what happens to you when Quinn sees that you attacked me. Because I think we both know that Quinn cares more for those close to her than simply a tool." Eira grinned darkly as she was keen to demonstrate that this childish temptress was more bark than she was bite.

And the bark did not faze Eira.

Eira laughed and shook her head, "I don't allow people to touch me simply because they want to. I am not so touch deprived as you might be that I allow anyone to touch me." Eira smirked, "I have standards. When people meet those standards, then they may touch me. Just look at you. Close as you try to get, you dare not touch me."

"It's because I know you are not worthy of touching me, but don't be disappointed, there is a long line of failed chasers such as yourself." Eira grinned with a dark laugh. "So sorry to deflate your bubble, but you aren't the only one, you aren't even in more than a blimp on my radar, dear. We met once, so your assumptions on my love life is quite a foolish move to make." Eira gave a bored sigh as she rose slowly to her feet. "As for trusting you to fix things. Can I say, nothing you have demonstrated today, in this very poor display of manipulative tactics has given me the idea that I could trust you anymore than the nameless figures you surround yourself with."

Dusting the sand off her body, Eira breathed in deeply, "it is a shame. I had assumed that Kaila and Quinn would have surrounded themselves with more talented company than yourself. I will have to inform them how terribly underwhelming I found you today." Eira stated as she turned around to head back to her ship. "The view was alright, shame that the conversation was less engaging. Perhaps this can be learning experience for you that playing evil is a whole other weight class to being evil, dear."

Eira making a point that she had already forgotten Serina's name as she headed back to her ship.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Eira Dyn

​

Serina stood still, watching as Eira strode away, her posture radiating self-satisfaction, her words intended as final, scathing declarations of victory. The acolyte thought she had won. Thought she had dismantled Serina's efforts, unraveled her intentions, exposed her as nothing more than a petty, ineffective manipulator.

Oh, darling, Serina thought with a slow, indulgent smirk, you truly have no idea.

With an easy, fluid motion, she lifted her wrist to her communicator, her voice purring into the device, silk-laced steel.

"Stand down."

There was a brief pause, then a hushed acknowledgment from the unseen forces she had stationed across the ridge, their weapons primed and ready, waiting for the order that never came. Oh, I know you're listening, Eira, Serina thought, amused at how these little, calculated movements would coil around the acolyte's mind like a vice.

Serina did not trust Eira anywhere near her base of operations, nor did she trust whatever information the woman thought she could take from this encounter. This had never been about winning a single conversation. No, no, no. Serina played a much longer game.

She already knew how this would unfold.

She could see it so perfectly—the way Eira would turn this into a self-congratulatory tale, how she would laugh about Serina's supposed failures, would share her little insights with Quinn, with Kaila, perhaps with others who thought they knew the weight of power.

Serina wanted that.

She wanted Eira to believe she had played the cartoon villain, the desperate, crude temptress clawing for scraps of control. It had to be obvious. It had to be predictable. Because when something is obvious, people don't look deeper.

Serina knew exactly what she was doing.

She had measured Eira, not just in words, but in reaction. In where she deflected, in where she grew bored, in where her ego dictated her responses. You gave me everything I needed, darling, she mused, her smirk deepening as the wind lifted the hem of her cape.

She let out a slow breath, feeling the tension of the encounter melt into satisfaction.

"Now I know exactly where to strike."

Serina watched Eira's figure grow smaller in the distance, disappearing into the thick coastal air. Then, finally, she laughed—low, indulgent, utterly pleased.

"Oh, Eira," she murmured to herself, "you played your part beautifully, but you won’t realize that your fighting Serina Calis."

She turned back toward the temple ruins behind her, letting her hands trail lazily over the intricate stonework as she whispered, almost reverently:

"I am going to enjoy breaking you."