I. Magnus. (TAE & Allies)

[Darth Abyss]

It wasn't like Abyss had really expected to see [member="Thraxis"] here, or anywhere else, anytime soon. That didn't meant that he was surprised by the odd, slightly amusing antics the maddest of the mad pulled simply for spotting the husk within the crowed. The greatest alcoholic in the entirety of the known universe never had been known for doing things the normal, or even the logical way. Watching as the man tried to figure out why there was such a distance between them, Abyss had remained idle, waiting for his old ally to figure out the problem himself, while silently laughing within his hollow armor.

For all the time that had passed, it felt like no time had passed at all.

Only when it became apparent that Thraxis still had no clue what was going on, either due to intoxication or just due to being Thraxis, a deformed talon reached out to grab the spyglass, turn it around and hand it back in a swift motion.

Yet he made sure to be gone before the madman from Zeltros had even the chance to take another look. Instead the husk was gone from sight, swallowed by the mantel of darkness that had partly already shrouded him. Moments later his form returned, leaving the common people around him in a state of obvious confusion. Abyss paid them no mind. They weren't important enough to stop him from playing a little joke on one of the few closest things he had to an actual friend, even if the had to give up his carefully build anonymity within the crowed.

"Sir, we found your ship outside of the areas designated for guests of great God-King's ascension. You should hurry if you want to stop its deconstruction."

The words, a sweet, telepathic whisper of a woman, was meant to reach Thraxis' head like a normal voice would reach his ears. At the same time a single finger tipped onto the man's shoulder from behind. Instead of a female official of the Eye, he would be meet by a quite different sight once he turned around. The full, wretched glory of Abyss, who had pulled down the rags to reveal his wide, fixed and obviously mocking grin.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

It had been many years since he had meet his old friend on the distant worlds of the Unknown Region. At the time it was nearly nothing when Jaster helped [member="Mythos"] with his financial situation. In that time Jaster had been the hand of Oppression as well as feeling its wrath. Seen the powers of both Light and Dark, raised Force Sensitives, and still not impressed with their impacts. Mythos was a god among men, Jaster would not challenge that, but in his eyes, he was still the man he played games with in the days of the UTC.

He entered the crowded clamering streets that was the Ancient Eyes Capital. As a Force Hunter, his gut twisted and turned at the pure overwhelming presence of Dark Force Users. Every fiber of his being told him to get into a defensive stance, but instead he continued to walk through the square. A platoon of 16 Republic Remnant Soldiers, wearing their pitch black Armor of his personal guard flanked the Grand General, he was leading a group of 4 individuals in chains. One was in an Imperial Officer, or at least wore the Grey Uniform of a Imperial Officer. Then there were two in Black Storm Trooper Dress Uniforms, caps not on their head. The last individual was not part of the military, but wore flashy clothing and very well taken care of hair, he just had to make the galaxy aware of his wealth. All were magna-cuffed and a waving blue string of light tied each individual to each other. These were captives of Jasters Last Battle, and enemies of Mythos and Jaster. He recorded them as KIA and came to this planet without the permission of his Senate. His guards were sworn to secrecy to never admitted to being here. The God-King was informered of his arrival and he was given permission to pass with his weapons, as if they could do something to him.

He knew the telepathic kark could feel his presence of a man in constant pain, and he heard legend that the man could read ones thoughts. Jaster wanted to give it a try, that's when he caught a glimpse of his old friend [member="Lady Kay"]. In that instance, he paused and the thoughts of revenge and darker thoughts was interrupted. He still went through with his efforts and spoke to Mythos through his thoughts, "Mythos, long time no see my old friend."

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: ANKHYPT [Palace Entrance]
In the Company Of: [member="The Matador"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="Seras Rose"]
Wearing: White
Intent: Confederate Representation for the Crowning of Mythos

If there was one lesson that Srina Talon excelled in teaching others—it was patience. Nothing flustered her. Nothing moved her. The little Echani was made of stone. In truth, she’d arrived exactly when planned, and not a moment before. Her partner for the evening simply didn’t need to be aware of that. The Matador reassured her in more words than he had ever spoken to her willingly, throughout the entirety of his employ in her service, that her tardiness was of little consequence. Silver eyes flickered. Was he really going to address her as Miss the whole evening? A softly caramelized sigh escaped primrose lips. “If anyone of note makes an inquiry about our arrival I can simply explain that we are preparing for war. Surely, even politicians and nobility must understand that some issues take precedence.”

“At any rate…You may address me by my first name. We both know that you’re aware of what it is.”

Her tone was neither kind nor cruel—existing only in a sea of perpetual calm. The soft-spoken being that came to stand before the monstrosity of a man seemed ethereal, and yet, also appeared to be missing something. She was an oddity. A particular form of irony. A truth wrapped in a lie, snowfall in summer, or most accurately, a painting without color. She was not lacking in detail or allure but she did seem to suffer shortages when it came to expression. It was this flaw, combined with an exceedingly stringent upbringing, that allowed her a great deal of focus and attention to detail.

The effort the Chieftain made to appear sociable struck her as false. She did not acknowledge it, and more than anything refused to see it as anything other than a mask. He moved and she followed, footsteps light, unburdened, and unhurried. The Matador had legs like tree trunks and like most men dwarfed her small frame. If he wanted to walk with her, he would need to match her pace, for she would not be matching his.

When the Matador moved and exposed her from his shadow she found that the blazing sun from above kissed her skin in a way she had almost forgotten. Ryloth and Geonosis were arid, it was true, but most of her time as of late had been spent within a starship, flying here and there, arranging allies and supplies. There wasn’t the time to take in something as simple and natural as a starlit sky or canary-yellow sun. She had little time for anything if it didn’t involve blaster bolts and droid formations.

A shuttle arrived to pick them up, just as gilded as their yachts in the river, and Srina could not help but see the impracticalities of traveling in something made of glass. She stepped inside and found a seat to the right of where the Matador placed himself. He was so large, that he nearly needed the entire back seat to himself. Regardless, they had the entire shuttle, and he preferred a healthy distance. Silvery eyes found the sights of Ankhypt. Beauty, beauty everywhere. So much gold. Everything glittered…

It was of little wonder why her Master’s attendant droids had picked the attire for her that they had. The diamonds gracing her form sent fractals spinning throughout their glass cage, placing rainbows where they ought not to be, each time the light of the sun washed over her. It was not overly bright, not in such a way that it blinded, but it gave credence that the small woman wasn’t truly there. A ghost. A figment of the imagination—or perhaps a daydream.

Her silent inspection of the city below was interrupted by a question from her rather indifferent escort. Apparently, they’d been assigned quarters, which was news to her. She wasn’t certain how long they’d be staying in Ancient Eye territory but at least they had somewhere to rest outside of the Ferocity. It was home, but, it was still a starship. “I will have to find out where our rooms are later on. I simply assumed that we would retire to our ship once the festivities were through.”

The Matador seemed, somehow, unamused with his God-King. Srina did not question it as it was not her place to do so. She was a guest, bearing good will, and Confederate support. She inhaled lightly when the man asked her another question. His newfound talkative nature was jarring. Before, on Ord, he would have sooner cut off her hand than make small talk. Now, it almost felt like the opposite.

War had hardened her already taciturn heart. Now, it was ice. Ice and stone.

“We are all different than we once were. Change is inevitable, constant, and vital to survival.”, she breathed delicately, keeping her eyes on the golden spires in the distance, versus looking at her companion. It was a rather profound conversation to have when traveling to what equated to a party. She also wasn’t certain she was the best person to ask. Had she ever really known him while being protected by him? Unlikely. She was his employer. Nothing more. “Yes. You are very different.”

“I believe it is said among my people that no man ever steps in the same river twice. It’s not the same river. And he, is not the same man.”

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

ANKHYPT
​-----------
Palace Quarters -> Coronation
​With: [member="Srina Talon"]

​The Chieftain sat hunched, hands braced against his lap; the digits of his left hand lapping over the plated armouring that shot a few inches above his knee. His thoughts were his own and the ornate chrome and black of his exterior hid his temperament almost too well, the constant visage of aggression bore upon the beautifully designed armour was a thing of war, of blood and of hatred. Yet, inside was a melancholic calm and indifference. Even to the golden spires that stretched towards a blue sky, mirrored by rivers and gold glazed in purity. Their warmth of homeliness or achievement was lost on him.

​What he saw was entirely different, he saw the primed batteries of the anti-air batteries as they sat hidden under bronze plateau's. He saw the ebb and flow of the suns rays as they made those gold spires a dull blue or purple, their delicate intricacies lost as his blood red eyes observed them from afar.

​

​

“At any rate…You may address me by my first name. We both know that you’re aware of what it is.” ​

​

Red eyes adjusted to the white glimmering form for a moment, shifting downward and away as his hands slid backward, reclining a little in his seat. Names. He didn't understand the importance of them, why did it matter what they were called? The word Srina, it was just that. A word of no meaning, pulled from the air of some farce of happiness between breeders who deigned to name their child. Yet, in the end had allowed her to be hunted and chased. If the women in white had been in some form his own people, if she had been Tol Varen. He would have destroyed those whom had dared to subjugate those of his Pride to something unjustified, to think how her life had changed since that.

​Light shimmered in the air almost as if cast by some spell, strange reflections of light that seemed to puzzle the Giant. His eyes fell upon Srina, observing her as the light seemed to burn from her form. The light was equally as alluring as it was irritating, his eyes shifted away again as the shuttle drew to a halt. The Coronation was close by, but first he needed to change. As he stood up, his eyes fell upon her first. A shadow, was what stood before him. A lie. This pale visage believed itself to be a survivor, she had no idea what it meant. Since she was forced to leave her comfortable life with her family, everything since then had been beyond her control. She had no hand steering the wheel of her destiny, it was a happy coincidence that she was where she was. He saw it, he saw that clearer than any creature with normal eyes could see what was a foot in front of them.

​She was lucky to be alive. Lucky. No man may never step in the same river twice, but she hadn't even got her feet wet.

​"You are not required to venture near your rooms at any time. However, I must visit my own before we go to the Coronation. A few minutes later won't change much. Will it, Srina?"

​Even as his thoughts cast a negative veil upon the head of the Echani. He still obeyed her wish, using her first name. However the comment was a test, there was no reason for her to wait outside of his chambers while he attended to things, but he imagined she would. He wished to know just how dependent she was.

The Chieftain did not travel far, moving only a few feet forward as his hand pushed upon a large oak door. Half open as his head moved to view the Confederate. "I will be a moment."

​​The Matador half-heartedly pushed the oak door back towards it frame, walking a few feet forward as the black marble shifted beneath his feet, a total of six mechanical arms rising from the ground as they slowly removed the heavy laminate plates, the armours magnetic coil system slowly deconstructed and removed as the armourweave and tarentatek body glove came free from his form and in all of a few moments the Giant was free from the constraints of armour walking but a few feet forward as he opened a golden crate that sat atop a humongous bed. Inside, a grey robe with a viridian lining was folded up. The Matador lifted the outfit from the chest, putting the ornamental clothing on with an absent mind.

The robe hung neatly over his shoulders, his arms were bare, save leather grieves around burnt wrists. The upper half of his chest was bare, his fingers running down the length of his throat as he felt the faded orange gem sunken into his chest. The thud of his Dravalan heart could be easily felt through what almost acted as a additional organ for his species. The robe fell into a cloak at his back and around his waist, defined by thick viridian edges. The robe fell on either side of his chest, covering the sides of his ribs and waist. The Dovah turned for a moment. observing himself in the reflection of a eight foot mirror. Examining the stitching of ankhyptian letters on either side of the robe covering his chest.

​​"Tathra Khaeus."

After the fall of the Jedi Order of Ashla, when there temple had becomes ashes at his feet. The Ankhyptians had called him the Son of War. Tathra Khaeus was a ankhyptian translation, another name. At least it meant something. The Matador's eyes shifted to his face, those aged red eyes staring back at him. They were nearly the only part of him that reminded him he had been on this plain for nearly a century. For nearly all of which he had been a disposable tool for the Kepper, no more. His eyes shifted to the scar on his chin and the adjacent scar on his lip. They sat out with a pink and vibrant heat by comparison to the dullness of the rest of his form, his eyes moving to his arms. His eyes following the veins on his arms that looked like wire cables running down his body, following his left arm to the crafted skin, where his arm had been burnt. It had happened when he was a child, when his skin had not matured.

His fingers felt at it, eyes flickering as he recalled how it had happened. As if on instinct his hand moved away, eyes open once more as he turned on his heel, relaxing a strained brow as he opened the oak door enough to allow himself through. Stepping out into the hallway.

 

[Mythos]

THE PALACE OF MYTHOS

Magnus Ceremony

Part 2: The Bringer of Rain

So lady Kay has brought another Sith Friend... Interesting... The man brought a smile to his face, were he another time and another mood he would have accepted the challenge and delighted the people of Ankhypt with seeing their lord in single combat but now was not the time.

​

​

"Do not presume yourself above standard decency, Aminus. Touch the mind of my Lady once more and the Wolf shall overtake my new persona."

​

"You remind me of someone I respected... Most of those whom I respected are dead"


Beings from all over the galaxy had come to this place and for this celebration, the heat of the sun was strong and powerful but now almost as if by the work of destiny a strong cool breeze began to blow from the north. As Mythos stood on top of the golden Pyramid he looked to the sky and began to focus on the small clouds in the sky with the only desire of them being larger... it would take some time, in the mean time he had things to say. "You may ask who I am, what is my purpose here in a world where i was not born, to whom by any right of natural and cultural succession i have no right to rule. I am here to tell you that I am. "

His words brought silence to the crowd, although not complete it was reduced to murmurs and whispers, he was talking now with no shouting but still a booming voice amplified by the natural acoustics that architects designed. He stepped forward and sheathed his sword as he walked, his eyes stretched far across the crowd and his smile was not fabricated, it was genuine. "I am the light that guides you in a dark night, I am the footprints in the sand the wind cannot blow away" He began, standing several steps down and looking up at the sky whispering several words of magic. The wind started to blow more powerfully and with more intent and the clouds which did not exist at the time now began to gather. He had to be subtle and he had to multitask but luckily he was not alone, as the priests of Anhkypt, from within the pyramid already had begun to fuel his power through incantations.

"I have defeated death and through me, through your belief in me and the Gods so shall you. For I, Magnus, gave up my only son in Atrisia, for he who should believe in me perish not, yet have life eternal with the heroes of the light and Perfectum. I am the way. I have defeated death already, through me you shall do the same."

He spoke as if a pin could drop in the sand and he would hear it, such was the silence of the entire city as his words flowed through the very essence of the dark side it'self. He knew through history that nothing was more powerful than hope, hope was the weapon of the greatest armies and the greatest warriors and now he was to give an entire civilization the hope of life after death through himself... and he could... in a very niche way live up to that promise... just not in the way they would expect until it was already too late.

"I am the bread that feeds a starving man upon the street and the bounty at the table in the palace gates. I am the rain that drenches your crops cheating the drought of the desert sun. I am he who allows your son to meet you one last time before he departs, I am."

Thunder began rolling in, the clouds began to darken and Mythos now released his sword from his sheath and launched it using all his might into the sky, using the power of telekinesis to send it soaring high until it was gone in the gray clouds of the sky. A slight drizzle began to pour down and here, in a place where rain never came down, where water was more precious than credits... Mythos brought rain.

The Grasslands to the east showed what was coming and Mythos knew he still needed to keep his mind of the storm and his mind on the people for he was not talking to them. Many were here, from all across the galaxy to speak with him but before he could go down and individually adress each one he needed to win the crowd and the hearts and minds of those around him fully and without a shadow of a doubt. Mythos needed to make the sky crack and bring the rain, the life giving water. He could sense them in the crowd, powerful beings who would not easily be impressed with a show of lights and trickery, he needed to impress them too.

"I am that I am. I am Magnus and even nature renders tribute to me"

He raised his right hand and shot lightning from his finger tips, a brutal wind now kicked up around the city strong enough to lift and move objects and people not strapped down but mild enough not to cause injuries to be permanent. The drizzle turned to a rainstorm and the storm that neared from the eastern grasslands. Now his eyes turned into a shade of bright light as he focused on controlling the power of the clouds using only the power of the darkside of the force and fueling his strength from the two force nexuses he had. The first his skull upon his left shoulder, fueling the power he unleashed upon his environment and the second his blade the rudis spinning in the cloud.

The two bound to him made an easy link from his power to the sky and as he raised his second hand to the sky and made to grab at the intangible air and power that wafted in the air lightning cracked, natural lightning not sith lightning all around him as nature protested... but he had her now...

He brought his hands down placed his open palms chest level, focusing on the whirlwind ahead. "Dhakmthis. Judeahsin. Voloth" He whispered, magic incantations to ease the violence of the storm then blew on his palms. That is when the storm winds died down and the rain came. A massive, powerful rainstorm that was nothing more than drenching and overwhelming but not dangerous.

From the sky came his sword, the rudis, this was the moment to finish this. He side stepped and angled his arm to catch it with his left hand, powered sith lightning into his right hand as it was coming down and unleashed it, using the Sith Sword to channel the power of the lightning and blast it to the sky making the rain drops crackle with harmless lightning light like crystals that came from the sky. Thunder roared and as soon as it did, the people cheered his name again.

Now it was time to go down and meet his allies and constituents by the floor of the pyramid, he glided down majestically and sat in a golden throne moved to the bottom for his own convenience. He hoped his guests did not mind getting wet, he loved it, he let the rain wash the sweat from his brow and cool his muscles from the hot desert sun. As he sat down his face was not of command and dominion but of comfort and harmony. Before anyone else could come to the Magnus, pregnant women were granted first passing. He was to bless the children in their bellies with sainted oil.

"Let the bearers of the future come to me. Then the heroes of the present"

@Thraxis @Temujin Khaan [member="Asteria deWinter"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Kiso"] [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Mara Rockwell"] [member="Judas Foster"] [member="Virak Ip"] [member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Lord Furiel"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"]​

 

[Kay-Larr]

Kay raised a brow as she watched [member="Mythos"] take to the stage. Or rather, his pyramid. Whatever it was, the Silver Tongue was doing what he did best. He gave the audience a performance that was so well done, she believed that Mythos believed in what he was saying himself. In truth Kay saw past all that. Mythos wasn't a being of the Light, no bringer of it either. He had some kindness in him surely, and generosity, but they were for selfish reasons.

As the rain clouds came, Kay drew up her umbrella and opened it, being mindful to not poke [member="Virak Ip"] with it as he stood nearby. She watched the light show and the sword that descended from the sky. Was that the sword that Mythos had her 'bless?'. No, it couldn't be. It was probably elsewhere.

When it was all over, she just watched the crowds. Mythos had won them over easily enough. It was almost cult-like, with the ceremony and everything involved in it. Nearly everyone pressed forward to catch a better glimpse of him, yet Kay just remained where she was. It'd be too much to try to get through and she didn't want anyone to be cut down by his guards that kept watch over her while she attempted to butt in line. Instead she just reached out to touch his mind. ~The Silver Tongue has returned and been crowned once more. Congratulations are in order. Yet I should depart. You have quite the line before you and plenty on your schedule. I'll see you on another day. Farewell, my friend.~

She looked to Virak. "Shall we go? We'll beat the traffic."

 

[Onrai]

Vanessa lurked and watched what was going on. She had nothing better to do at this point. Over in a corner, passively trying not to be noticed, she looked at a datapad upon which were updates regarding the goings-on of Thyferra.

"Oy... that's not good."

[member="Mythos"]

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: ANKHYPT [Palace Entrance]
In the Company Of: [member="The Matador"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="Seras Rose"]
Wearing: White
Intent: Confederate Representation for the Crowning of Mythos

Judgement.

Did the mountain of a man not realize how easily he oozed it? Rather, she simply expected that he did, but did not care. He assumed too much when he knew too little. She could feel it in his gaze and nearly taste it in the cloistered air of their glass cage. Every word she spoke, he found some reason to think less of her, to question her, to make it very clear that he only tolerated her presence by the will of Mythos.

“I never thought I was required.”, Srina responded plainly, gray eyes turning to observe him, flickering, when he used her name as she had requested. It felt like a slur from his lips. Like a curse, or an insult, and the white-haired apprentice decided that she wished to take it back. The Matador was not any more tolerable now than he had been so long ago. That, at the very least, had not changed. “By all means…”

“Take your time.”

The all too short moment she had away from the Chieftain gave her room to breathe, think, and find her center of balance again. Srina was curious, to a fault, and found herself wandering away from the designated chambers for her escort. She crossed the long hallway, the gossamer shimmersilk of her dress fluttering behind her, and found herself standing on the precipice of a partially glass covered balcony. It seemed to be made with the intention of being ostentatious and she could only shake her head. She could see merriment taking place in the streets with cheers and delight rising from the crowd.

Part of her could not help but feel a strange sense of awe slashed with apprehension. She had never seen someone inspire so well—not even the Vicelord. This…This was how zealotry was born. It was dangerous flame to play with. Beliefs were worth killing for. Dying, for.

The subtle change in light was not lost on her. Where the sun had blazed not long ago, warming her through and through, the skies had begun to darken. The slender Echani stepped out on to the balcony and realized they had a direct view of the great pyramid. They were close enough that she could see Mythos standing at the top, regal as ever, and despite her elevation, she could hear the words. There was power in the air. It changed what was natural—Forcing weather patterns to move to accommodate his will. Force Sight was her gift, and her curse, and she saw the rainfall before it happened.

Delicate feet took her two steps backward just before water began to fall and she remained silent beneath the sparkling awning. Once again, she observed. Mercurial eyes grew distant as she felt her way through the Force and followed the brightness in her mind’s eye. It was Mythos. Connected to more than just himself, amplified by more than his own power, but still, it was the resolve of the God-King that drew a storm from nothingness. The sky became grey, rippling, and when lightening rolled through it was reflected in her mirrored gaze.

Srina reached a hand out and let the rain fall into her upturned palm. The wind pulled at her tastefully styled snow-kissed locks, tugging at her form, as if threatening to sweep her away. Thunder rolled, like a hungry beast, and she could feel the booming sound deep in her bones.

Slowly, but surely, the shadowy weather seemed to dissipate and cries and cheers rose even louder from the streets of Ankhypt. Whatever Mythos had done, or whatever he’d been trying to prove, seemed to have come to fruition. His people would believe in him. How could they deny such a display of power? How could they deny someone that could level their homes with a mere chant and few objects? God-King, indeed.

Srina sighed quietly to herself, breathing in the remaining scent of ozone, before closing her eyes. Power like that… It lingered. It marked the area, left her feeling more than she should, and didn’t stop buzzing. Like a thousand bees rolling beneath the surface of her skin. The Force demanded so much of her attention that she likely hadn’t heard the door to the Matador’s chambers open. She’d gone far enough that she couldn’t see him, but she was close enough, that he would be able to find her.

At least she’d had the foresight to leave the gift they’d found for Mythos on the Ferocity until it was time for him to receive it. The object they’d obtained, through quite a bit of difficulty, would have been absolutely ruined in the elements. Still, she wondered, if they shouldn’t have gone with some sort of weaponry…But the nostalgic side of her thought he might appreciate this more.

Srina remained still as the light slowly returned. She seemed to be made of marble, alabaster skin unblemished, and very much so focused on the dwindling Force display. Mythos was making his way down to a throne at the bottom of the pyramid now.

Perhaps, for the time being, the theatrical portion of his Coronation had ended.

 

[Asteria deWinter]

"You may ask who I am, what is my purpose here in a world where I was not born, to whom by any right of natural and cultural succession i have no right to rule. I am here to tell you that I am. "​

The God-King spoke of his right to rule and while it sounded like delicious words, it had little to do with truth. The birth had never been a requirement of rulers. Blood of Family of Darkness had not stood fast upon Endelaan for generations and yet in hers, they had returned to where their ancestors had ruled to reclaim what had belonged to them. In the same way, Angelo's mother was not born of Dathomir and yet, she had ruled Dathomir in the age in which they were young. The Witches obeyed their deity when she rose to power. To power, Asteria thought. A palpable cause for rule rather than birth. One could be born on a planet they did not belong to. She had. Spira was not meant to be the home of a creature like herself. Endelaan had been a delight to come to in its own right and yet, not even that was a home to which Asteria belonged. She had yet to find a planet where someone like her could truly belong.

"I am the light that guides you in a dark night, I am the footprints in the sand the wind cannot blow away"​

Is this what the once One Sith had been? She had felt the movement in the air before it had begun, dancing against her skin when it had come. Wind. His words hadn't been so literal until now but the Mistress of Elements could feel the work of alteration of her domain and she welcomed it without hesitation, letting it unfold. It was certainly a new side to Mythos, one she had been unaware of now that it made her suspect it was a newer skill.

He continued, speaking of defeated death, confirming further the rumors that had reached her. He had been dead and he had lived. Not the most impossible of feats but one that required effort without doubt yet now, the God-King promised that through his defeat, those at his side would defeat as well. Asteria had no intention of conquering death, she wished to eradicate it of her own path completely. Indeed, the concept of it was not lost on her. She could be killed and yet, she planned on living for long as it suited her and not the biology of her being. Her DNA structure would permit her years beyond of what was meant and yet, Lady deWinter wasn't satisfied with this at all. She wished to live forever if it so suited her. Perhaps there was something in this ideology that would direct in the path of where she needed to go. And perhaps in unlocking it, she would give her own daughter, the last remnant of her humanity remaining in this galaxy, the gift of eternal youth.

"I am the bread that feeds a starving man upon the street and the bounty at the table in the palace gates.​

I am the rain that drenches your crops cheating the drought of the desert sun. I am he who allows your son to meet you one last time before he departs, I am."​

A small smile spread against her features as he made note of the rain. Was he indeed the rain that drenched the thirst of their crops? She felt it again, the interference against the natural elements and her head rose to the skies to see the formation of molecules before the rain had begun to fall downward. If he willed rain, she would not interfere in his desires and yet, as the rain came towards her, above her, Asteria reached towards it with her own will, causing it to pause in mid-air above her, the drops falling to the sides, changing their course around her. Not a single drop lay upon her locks or the golden gown which adorned her. Her gaze lowered to watch him now but her concentration remained on the rain above her, its course still altered around her. Her emerald gaze noted the lighting spreading as she moved forward, seeing him welcome the weakest among his guests towards him. It was then that Lady deWinter sent a thought to [member=Mythos]: 'How theatrical of you, Mythos,' she communicated with a small diplomatic smile to her face, 'And yet you allow it to wet your own flesh. I am sure your subjects will find comfort that their god can be affected by something as important as rain.' On a dessert like planet, rain was certainly important and longed for the element, she would admit to that. And yet, it all seemed to further the theatrics as he allowed it to touch upon him. Not here though and not rain caused another of this skill.

[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Lord Furiel"] [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Seras Rose"] [member="Lyra Sarn"] [member="Mara Rockwell"] [member="Virak Ip"] [member=Antherion] [member="The Matador"] [member="Judas Foster"] [member=Kiso] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Temujin Khaan"] [member=Thraxis] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"]​

 

[Thraxis]

With a flip of the glass, his gaze was radically changed, everything was far... Closer. Well, nigh everything, a certain man had slipped through the cracked bends of reality, vanishing from site like the phantoms of old. It drew confusion from the manic drunk. His gaze shifted and swayed, pulled back and forth in a sway of bemusement. It was like trying to find Waldo. If he was dressed all in black, surrounded by drunks and was, and here is the twist. A spooky ghost. But with all the amusement the drunkard acting like a child could, he swang and danced, back and forth before something struck him, a cold feeling swept over him. Nothing unfamiliar, he was ridden with the Dark Side, it had almost wholly consumed him as every item in his possession leaked with malevolence. But the feel of Abyss was cold and hungry as if his mind had been robbed, penetrated and pervaded his mind again. That was, until the comfort of a woman rolled through his mind, a haunting eerie as he shifted on the ball of his foot, shifting with a hidden cold sweat as he looked upon the Prophet.

For a few seconds, he paused, his gaze drawn up and down and seeing the unveiled horror that was Abyss. He didn't think he had ever seen it, but in the past hundred years, memories were made, lost and edited. He might've only ever seen his face. But as his gaze drifted on he broke out into a chuckle, his words ran warm as a cold sweat dripped from his brow, his arms spread wide, not for a hug, but more or less excited jubilation as it dropped down for a handshake. He didn't think they were that close of friends that a handshake was probably the correct approach to the whole hoopla. "Abyss!" He yelled, outstretching his hand, "You old so and so, how long has it been? Two, three hundred years? Nah... Must've been at least eight years." There was a manic looseness in his words like something wasn't all there. I mean, a lot of things weren't there, his sense of self-restraint, a care for his own life, empathy and all that fun stuff. But there was something dire missing, like parts of his brain were struggling to connect the dots of time.

He paused for another few seconds, his gaze drawn wildly through the crowd before turning back to Abyss, "Okay but seriously? Is that thing being deconstructed? Cause, hundred percent sincere here, I do not have another one and have completely forgotten where to buy ships." He stated with, not so much sincerity as blunt force disinterest. So what if he lost the ship, he had adapted to the life of the Bilge Rat, if he could find an air duct, he was sure he would be fine, but just cause one adapted, did not mean enjoyment. Well, he enjoyed it. Being a scurried creature, tossing the odd extraterrestrial lifeform around the ship. That was what made life as a Bilge Rat exciting. But he lost himself, he shook himself away with the worries of reality and went to old times, the good times, the times he had seldom remembered. "NO, no. Ignore that question, we are at a party! I think. Is this a party? Abyss, whats actually going on? I sorta just... Well, I done my thing." He sighed, turning to the pyramid where it seemed god himself was being crowned. He needed to be filled in, and maybe getting a talk with the highest would be a good place to start.
-------------------------------------
[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[4ND-R0]

ANKHYPT
Royal Palace​

The Khaan and his retinue were finally allowed in after the guardsmen were able to verify his identity. They wer gathered in just as the newly crowned King of Ankhypt began his speech. One of the Khaan's attendants came by his side with a Riben-Jin parasol as this Mythos proclaimed himself a God and summoned forth rain in the otherwise arid desert. An impressive feat, for sure, but one that did not move the Khaan to believe the act was divine. Powerful shamans from his people's past were recorded as doing similar feats. Nonetheless, the command over spirit-power was enough to garner a smidgeon of respect.

Once the feat had been concluded, the king began to welcome visitors and dignitaries from across the wide Galaxy. The Khaan viewed this as his opportunity. He motioned to a couple of his men, who carried two sealed containers. The Khaan and his accompaniment waited patiently as other well-wishers and prostrators before the new King addressed him. Finally, it was his turn to move up. He greeted Mythos with a polite, traditional bow of his people.

"Greetings, Your Excellency. I am Temujin, Grand Khaan of the Eternal Horde. You bade us welcome to your coronation. I come bearing gifts." He spoke with a surprisingly fluent Basic, motioning to his companions.

The four men set down the containers and carefully and ritualistically. One opened to an adequately filled, metallic womb full of pale green gems. The other spat cool wisps of frigerated air, and apparently filled with food. The Khaan gave a gentle gesture to the containers.

"My people are not wealthy in the way of gold and silver, like others. In my language, these precious stones are called khash, but I am told the Galaxy knows it as jade." He elaborated, "The other is an offering of traditional culinary fare of my people. Cured beef, dumplings, and a favored beverage. Kumis. Fermented milk from our mares. I hope you enjoy this humble offering."

With that, he bowed and stepped aside so that thing may respond in some fashion. The Khaan looked on with curious eyes as to how he would respond. While these gifts were simply that, the leader of the Horde was quietly measuring up how this Mythos would act as a king.

[member="Asteria deWinter"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="The Matador"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Darth Metus"]​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

ANKHYPT
​-----------
Palace Quarters -> Coronation
​With: [member="Srina Talon"]

​Scarlet eyes observed the foyer, seeing the empty hallway as he felt the echo of Miss Talon. His eyes tracked the residual heat of her footsteps, his form turning as his head hung hunched between sloped shoulders as he observed the warmth left in her wake. There was some irony in that, for many he assumed she left a warmth behind her due to the presumed radiance of her identity. Yet, he saw her genuine warmth, the tiny fading presses of feet against the marble floor. He imagined he saw truth where others were blinded by their ignorance or in some case their gross overcompensation of niceties to balance their gaseous incompetence.

​At the turn of the corner, the light which came from the open balcony was muddled by her shadow. His eyes fell on the strange black and purple colouration that came to his vision, it made the gentle slopes of her form almost defined by comparison to the burning heat that pressed from the seeing eye. In a moment, all the light almost disappeared as the words of the God-King reverberated through the Matador. Such a spectacle was lost on the pragmatic beast as he turned the corner, watching as the Lady in white instinctively backed up as the rain descended. He lingered, on the edge of her shadow as his eyes wondered. Prescribing weakness to the curvaceous and soft form of her back, her sanctum deigning to make any definition at all. ​Soft.

The last soft thing he'd felt had been...

A shadow of thought condemned to the depths of his mind. The Matador or rather, Tathra Khaeus stepped a few feet forward, taking careful measure not to step on her luxurious dress.. With a name he'd chosen brandishing some form of identity for him. Yet still, she was absorbed in the feeling. As if the force echoed within every cell of her being, like a well stitched weave of armour. He felt it, waning from her shuddering lips as the power of the spectacle rolled over her. Her heat wavered, as if in flux with her own mind. So much yet so little in such a thing as this Echani.

​"If you always let the waves roll over you. You will drown Srina."

​He was unsure why he had chosen to use her name, why he felt some measure of obedience to her words. It was all too similar in feeling to what he had endured. He was not capable of allowing such a thing to happen once more. Perhaps she like The Keeper was some form of enchanter. Perhaps she had conquered the art of control. Ironically, only of others. Most certainly not of herself.

The force, felt like something that had been burned into his flesh. Like every other part that made up his giant form, it had been torn and twisted until it was unrecognisable. His very form seemed, inhumane. A contrast to hers to be sure, he felt like he was in the presence of simply another victim. The adversity was born of a memory of children, afraid and confused. Taken from their families, and turned into tools. His mind felt as turbulent as the weather before them, a mixture of pride and something else.

​Still, scarlet eyes fell on Srina Talon as his features softened almost unconsciously, however hardening as he expected her to address him.

 

[Darth Abyss]

The crowds reaction to the whole situation amused Abyss almost as much as [member="Thraxis"] behavior. For a man that seemingly had lost any sense for time he didn't had changed much, or at all. People departed, took steps back and generally made an effort to avoid being close to the strange meeting before them, confusion and fear creating a delicate mix in the air around the two as the husk stepped forward to shake the scoundrels hand.

"A party? The Thraxis I knew would not use that word for a event with so little booze."

Metal teeth grinded over each other to create a shrill, horrible recreation of a chuckle. Black holes in a wooden mask looked at the madman, trying to find the part that was missing. The presence of Thraxis always had been far to warped and broken to make any real guesses about his current state, but even for him he seemed a bit less collected then normally. Sadly he couldn't offer much insight in the time that had passed, as his own perception of time had grown beyond the narrow view of the living.

"[member="Mythos"] is going to ascend today, a new God-King for the Ancient Eye."

The husk continued to look at the man before him, realizing only after his words that Thraxis probably lacked the knowledge over half the words he had just used. His left claw tapped against his metal jaw, while he ordered his thoughts into a sentence that would explain the coronation in a way that required no insight in the current state of the galaxy whatsoever, while also appealing to the madman's interests.

"A Sith Lord called Mythos founded new empire somewhere around here and called it the Ancient Eye, and decided to give his new populace a little show so they would shut up about it. Lots of fancy titles, magic and all that. Just imagine a less boring, more ancient version of Commenor with added necromancy. Pretty good gig if you ask me, much fighting and looting going on so far."

 

[Mythos]

The Temple of Mythos

Ankhypt
​

Magnus Ceremony: Part III: Hope.

As he commanded, women pregnant with children came before him first and foremost. One by one, under the powerful and beating rain he blessed their bellies for every race and took the times to send them away with gifts and jewelry, sure it was an expensive gesture but one that won over crowds the best. It took some time before the wave of belly swollen females passed on but after a while he was through and soaking wet from head to toe at the end. A familiar face and a beautiful smile that adorned him was that of the mistress of elements, a woman who he had never had the pleasure of meeting but did have the pleasure of studying in the Academy of Glee Anselm under the direct command of one [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] as a prime example of the mastery and due diligence of the ability of Alter Environment, an ability he had just used now. His own command of the ability paled in comparison to her as she stood several feet away, effortlessly willing the rain that he had unleashed to fall around her as she stood totally and completely dry.

He could not help but to laugh at her statement and reward her with one of his stoic and charismatic smiles under the waft of wet and uncombed hair. His chest was bare and what armor he did wear was his own skull over his left shoulder strapped to his body with several leather straps with metallic links and a kilt of Terentatek leather topped off with boots made of gold links of jewelry and Malraas skin he crafted himself. The rest of his attire was compromised of jewelry of the highest care and rarity including a large neratharium necklace and earrings that broadcasted his emotions like experienced weathermen as well as a massive belt made of inlaid gold and rings of every beautiful jewel in the galaxy for each finger.

"If i cold only express how glorious you are Lady Dewinter and how proud and pleased I am to have you by my side in these coming campaigns but alas, mortal languages fail me in this endeavor"

He said to her, in distinctive and perfect Sith. His mastery of multiple languages gave him a perfect advantage in tactical situations but in diplomatic ones as well, his ease to pick up on and master native languages was uncanny. "Water is the mother of life, this world is bereft of it in most of it's globe, the heat is mustafarian in nature. I welcome the breath of moist and cool water, It baffles me how you do not" He said with a loud laugh and a gesture beside him, letting the Lady Dewinter know she was welcome to the side of his throne for this entire proceeding. "Yet theatric" He continued, still in perfect and classical sith. "Is not something i would call my actions today." He said, while simultaneously accepting a gift from the plebeians and a child busting through coming straight for him. "I am giving the people what they need and want, water to grow their crops and cool their bodies, here in Akypht water is scarce and a sign of good fortunes for the future so i give them exactly that. I make the world love me, trust me, believe in me so that in the end none shall fight in vain but for a future they wish to see through me. It is how i win worlds, it is how i shall conquer the galaxy in my name."

After the second wave of plebeians came for him he was confronted with his first constituent of great importance... and what a man he was. The Great Khan, the Legend of the Horde himself, [member="Temujin Khaan"] had not only arrived but in full force and show of his unity had displayed honor and grace in his arrival. Mythos... stood from his throne and returned the bow the Khan had grace him with with equal fervor and respect... warrior cultures understood each other.

"I am not your excellency Great Khan. I am your brother in war and conquest. You bow to no man here or in place of the great empire that i have created. I have brought you not to be my subservient but to be my extension and arm in battle and bloodshed so that we may grace both your ancestors and mine in combat and, if we are so lucky a glorious sand honorable death. My home is your home, Angramar is both a home for my divine strength as is your legendary power. Together we will carve our name into history and your gifts i hope we enjoy as equals as, I may be Magnus but you are Great Khan! and together! We make the Earth and the Stars tremble in Fear!"

Without hesitation Mythos took some of the Kumis that was offered and drank it down to the cheer and fanfare of his men and loyal supporters.

[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Temujin Khaan"] @Thraxis [member="Asteria deWinter"] [member="Asteria deWinter"] @Sirina Talon [member="Vanessa Vantai"] [member="Lady Kay"]
​

 

[Virak Ip]

As Mythos' voice drifted through his mind, Virak grunted in derision. Such grandstanding had always been the root of his dislike of Animus back when they had both been Apprentices under Darth Ophidia, a dislike that had only festered when Animus had taken on the title of Darth Mythis and he the title of Darth Lykos. Shaking his head in annoyance, Virak rocked back on his heels slightly, fists clenching and unclenching as he resumed his vigil over Lady Kay, eyes flittering from face to face as he prepared for an attack upon his Lady, even if they were surrounded by guards. After all, some of them were Mythos' guards.

When the storm rolled in, Virak paid it no attention, ignoring everything related to it up until Kay opened up her umbrella, one of the prongs almost catching him in the eye as he did so. A spark of anger flared within his gaze as he turned his head to glare at Kay for a few seconds. His glare soon shattered though as he snorted in amusement, false-anger giving way to a kinder emotion, one of humour and one that he had not felt and experienced in a long time; since when he was young and amongst his Clan in his youth. When the crowd surged forwards it caught him by surprise, his staring Kay having served to distract him. Snarling under his breath, uttering a cures at himself, he flexed his strength in the Force to create a Barrier around himself, Kay and her guards, preventing from the roaring, cult-like crowds from pressing in on them.

As Kay's gentle voice reaching his ears, Virak's gaze flickered down to meet her own a small smirk pulling at his lips. Stepping up to be mere centimeters from her, hovering directly over her should, he sketched a small bow that was nothing more than an incline of his shoulders. "If that is what you wish, then lead the way, M'Lady." At his waist, his hand was securely fastened over the hilt of his blade, his knuckled whitening from the strength of his grip. None would touch Kay and his guard would not lower until she was safely secured, removed from the viper's own nest. That he decreed.


[member="Lady Kay"]

 

[Thraxis]

He gave a wry chuckle, far from Abyss own but still with that sinister air, the air itself was by far becoming tainted as time passed. The sinister force that pervaded Abyss warped the air in the most minute changes, even the alcohol that was left in Thraxis spare hand could feel the sting, and Thraxis didn't do much to change that very toxic atmosphere, he may be far from force sensitive, but the force lingered like the smell of conditioner and he might as well just jumped out from his bath. As to why Thraxis would than have one, that was the million credit question, his every pours smelled of booze and great decisions, no need to be washing that away. Giving a knowing tap on his nose, sliding in a little closer as he whispered to Abyss, closing the gap between them while still holding the grip of the shake while in the other he splashed a little alcohol that whirled and danced in the steely cup, "Exactly why I have been knicking others drink. There might not be enough for everyone, but there is enough for just one." He responded pulling back with a gleeful sigh, his words at the end sweetened like carrion mixed in a stew of sugar. Still rotten to the core, but at the very least the aroma had been covered up.

As the converse grew long and cold he could see the deathly gaze of Abyss roll over him, that wooden mask belying no lie, he was looking for something, Thraxis met his gaze, scanning over him once, twice, three times before the conversation of Mythos popped up. "Ahh, so my incorrect guess was right all along." He paradoxically stated, a satisfied grin warping his face before looking up at the ascended himself. "So. Ascended huh? Never been one to put much stock into that. Seen a couple though. Never pan out well." He sighed, his definition was far more literal than metaphorical, though Mythos himself might have thought otherwise. On his home planet of Graveyard, there had been three 'Ascensions' Each one lead by either the Sith Inbreeds that populated the stretch like dying out cockroaches, sometimes their own stocks, other the Gammoreans. But when faced to face with the Dark Nexus that warped all facets of reality on that planet, the outcome was always poor. Whether power went to their head or their bodies couldn't manage the power and a rain of gore-filled the sky, the things were never good. But nonetheless, in the few, he had seen celebration was to be had. And from what he spied, it seemed power had been met here, and he wanted a slice of power in this new world.

Abyss explained the ins and outs, Thraxis with a spyglass catching an odd site involving pregnant women and blessings. Fun times. From what he understood, it involved getting titles, Commenor and fighting. Good times, though the added benefit of Magic and Necromancy put a downer spin on things. necromancy was fine and all, at least done with technology or a strange concoction of Drugs. But the Force Hater that Thraxis was, he wasn't the biggest fan of the force. But the force was like screws in the universe. it kept things together, and you can hate screws all you want, thinking Nuts and Bolts to be far superior, it was something you simply had to swallow and get over. He had done it with Abyss, he was sure he could do it with others. "Well. Sounds like my sort of gig." He said with jubilant glee all the while rubbing a finger underneath his nose as he let a sniffle. It was decided that he was going to met Mythos. He knew the bare minimum from what Cadan said all those seventeen years ago. "But the question is Abyss. How do I meet him, or should I say, we met him?" Thraxis retorted rubbing the mask of his chin with the cup of booze, spilling over the floor with oblivious care and the other propped underneath his chin as a large 'Hmmmmmm' rolled out before finally snapping his fingers. "Right. Abyss. I got it, follow me." He snapped, catching the tail end of the second wave of commoners. As for what he had planned, he refused to clue Abyss in, rather letting the warped madness of his mind cloak his thoughts lest Abyss truly had the determination to break through the barricades he had managed once prior.

From his duffel bag, he pulled out his Phantasm cloak, coiling it around his garbs and flipping a hood over his mask but not activating the hiding application of it. He stuck out an arm through the front of it, swelling his belly and snapping on the voice modulator he didn't have in the helmet, leaving his voice as rancid and festered as hanged meat. He approached, the very last person in the cavalcade of people. This wasn't the best idea, considering the odd line here and there by Cadan was a distant memory, and he couldn't quite remember the words used, and at one point think he wasn't even the one saying it, but nonetheless, Thraxis persisted with his plan. He was right behind the Great Khan, never heard of him, but such a noble title had to hold some weight, especially if Mythos the Vicious responded with a bow. He wasn't called that Thraxis was sure, but in converse with Cadan was sure the two words clashed. But finally, as the Great Khan moved, either to his side or elsewhere, Thraxis containing as much laughter as he could finally approach, coughing as he spoke in a weary voice. "Oh great lord Mythos." He spoke, his voice unfiltered and unchanged as he spoke under the pretence of an old ladies voice perverted his speech, "Me children grow hungered and weak. Our crops dry and the Shaak, they barely shack themselves. Oh dear Mythos, please bless me and my, children, for we fear stillness may fester within." His smile was forced though masked by a mask did not fall to a knee, "Oh, my old bones, it is me dying years you see. please, forgive me for not bending your greatness." He said as he merely hunched his back over, his free hand still oblivious as it shook with glee and more alcohol spilt onto the podium. This was the test if his boss was to be an uppity ass with no time for games than he wanted no part in this shindig of pricks. However, if some levity was to be faced, who was he to not sign up. he was sure uppity asses were amongst their ranks, and nothing was more satisfying than being a rank higher than them and compromising their authority and stealing their workforce.
------------------------------
[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Mythos"]

 

[Asteria deWinter]

A laughter and a boyish smile greeted her statement, the God-King's acknowledgment of her words. Her quint and pleasant smile remained hardly reaching her eyes as she listened to the words partially foreign to her yet she understood their meaning through her study of Sorcery. He spoke of her glory as well as a pride of her presence in those ancient words. Asteria, however, did not return the sentiment in the language she could not speak in perfection. "I'm glad you would feel this way, God-King," she responded instead in Galactic Basic. While Asteria's education extended in High Galactic along with several other languages, most often, she'd been forced to make use of the most common of languages.

Mythos called water the mother of life wondering why she didn't accept it, especially on a planet such as this. Now, she smiled almost gently, as her gaze wandered to the ground gathering around him before she noted the hand gesture. "Water is not the mother of life. It is merely a piece of the chain that could be considered the mother of life. Air and Earth are requally important and fire is never far behind," she offered to his words, the dry spell around her moving alongside her as she did, keeping her safe from the droplets of water. "When the environment is at your fingertips, you decide when it will affect you." Water was hers to commend as other elements were and yet, only a form of it was her preferred and it wasn't the version of it in liquid form.

The God-King continued to speak of his actions and the necessity of water upon Akypht, a land scarce of water. He made them love, trust and believe in him. "I can understand the necessity," lady deWinter spoke, "though I put little stock in love. It's fickle. If they love when you give, they can potentially hate when you take." Love was a concept she had lost faith in though she held it for a select few, and for some of them were just fleeting memory just as the people were. Respect was a far more aspiring concept. Her Red Ladies and Gents respected and believed she would deliver her promises, to give them more ground, to ensure their pockets and bellies were filled. Some of them had been chained, others had been hungry. She ensured none of those things troubled them ever again for that, she had their respect. Whether they loved her or not was of little consequence to her.

She continued to walk beside him, noting the man he had addressed, calling him the Great Khan. Her attention instead focused on the small child whose widened eyes watched her. Knowing better now what the planet was like, her hand reached out towards the rain around her, summoning the drops into her hand before she altered the liquid into a ball of ice before extending her hand to the child. Slightly fearful, she took it, studying the obviously odd shape - touching it, smelling it before she licked it, started by the cold effect. Yet, she would soon see that on her tongue, it melted. Her face lit up at the knowledge and she proceeded to consume the ice much like Asteria had ice cream in her youth, though this produced water rather than a particular flavor. The sight of her had actually made her smile grow a bit, reminding her of the excitement her youngest sister and daughter displayed at such tricks.

[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Lord Furiel"] [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Seras Rose"] [member="Lyra Sarn"] [member="Mara Rockwell"] [member="Virak Ip"] [member="Antherion"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Judas Foster"] [member="Kiso"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Temujin Khaan"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"]​

 

[Kay-Larr]

Kay glanced to [member="Virak Ip"] as she felt him bring up the protective barrier. The last thing that she needed was for them to be crushed. While the crowds surged towards [member="Mythos"] and his stage, they were like a flowing river with herself, Virak and her guards being the only ones moving in the opposite direction.

In truth she wasn't sure how much more she could handle. The overall vibe of the place made her uncomfortable. Even on Atrisia, she could only take so much. And this was much more than that. Kay half expected for another statue of herself to be unveiled. Just the very thought made her shudder. There weren't even any statues or paintings of herself in her own territory. She didn't pretend to be a Goddess or anything of the sort. She worked her way to the top, had sacrificed a lot for it. This was much different.

Kay was very conscious of Virak being so close to her. The umbrella was lifted to shield them both from the rain. She doubted that their presence would be missed and she was certain to make it up to Mythos later. He knew that she was there to witness the coronation and that was all that was asked of her. Thankfully she was unaware of [member="Thraxis"] being there, the two having gone against eachother on a number of occasions. But even if she knew, it wouldn't make her stay. On the contrary, it'd make her want to leave all the quicker.

Finally they were out of the crowd, causing her to breathe a sigh of relief. "Next stop is home." Well her home, anyways. The Free Lady awaited them, ready to take them up to her escort vessels. There was only so long that she could be away from her territory before people would start to worry. Afterall, she was a magnet for trouble. And there was plenty of trouble here.