Faction In Memoria

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

As she emerged out into the moonlit alcove of the balcony, she would find herself alone, all but for the icy cold winds that continued to assault her form, a dress that was made to befit a roaring fire was hard-pressed to protect her from the elements, with so much of her skin exposed. If she gazed around, the most surprising detail would be just... how abandoned the area was, despite the inviting heat of the ballroom, it was surprising that there was seemingly no one who had sought the privacy and quiet of the outside, no couples who might have allowed propriety to fail them in the throes of heart and desire.

And of course perhaps the most important to the young acolyte, the figure who had stolen her hands for the last few minutes was far from sight.

"And what of the hierarchy do you understand, Lady Castor?" A voice emerged out from within her skull, clear and crisp on the tongue, yet entirely unnatural in pitch and tone familiar enough from the masked man she spoke to, yet still... different. More thought than spoken, a voice that simultaneously rang in her ears from all directions, while too coming from nowhere.

"Obscurity is safe, yet, so is cowardice, so is cravenness, are you either, Lady Castor?" The second time her name was used, there was a bite to the name both times it was spoken, "Is it with obscurity that you will achieve what you desire? Then of desire, what is it you desire?" The voice continued on, bombarded out from different directions, however, ever still.

"You ask how you will be useful to the Viper, and such is an intelligent question to ask, but it is beyond him, and can only be answered with a question of its own."

A shape burned in her mind's eye, a painted black shape of two diamonds linked together with wings on either side pointing to the heavens, all surrounded by a snake consuming its own tail.

​

"What do you know of the Tsis'Kaar?"

Adean Castor

​

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

WEARING: x | x

The chill of the outside was nothing compared to the frigid cold of her veins as Adean stepped out onto an empty balcony. Be it a trap, a test, or a needlessly elaborate way to be stood up, she hadn't quite anticipated the alluring invitation of conversation to end so abruptly. A hand smoothed down the creases of her dress, no doubt verifying the presence of a small dagger she'd tucked away amongst the fabric.

Panic, kept in check by sheer force of will, surged through her as the voice in the back of her skull continued. How did it know that name? She'd been meticulous in her deception, her paper trail bearing the name of Brassius Zambrano ever since the borrowed name had been locked in, before she'd reached Jutrand. It'd been month's since she'd even heard that name spoken allowed. There had to have been a slip-up somewhere but where? "I surely don't know who you're referring to, though I'm quite curious where you might've gathered that name," the evenness in her voice was paper-thin.

Words that were once measured by the context of a courtly ball took on a different tone. Tense, analytical, expecting a twisted meaning or trap with each syllable. "Obscurity is only cowardice if one does nothing with it, Lord Malum," she answered carefully. As for what she wanted, well, that was a difficult question now wasn't it? What she wanted, truly wanted, had never been something she could admit freely among the Sith. Being a Sith, a Jedi, really anyone of real consequence hadn't been on her list of wants. She'd simply wanted to be. But at this point, could she even go back if given the chance? And was that what she actually wanted anymore?

"The Sith code speaks of chains being broken. I strive to find that reality, albeit on my own terms." Maybe without the suffering, without the rage, if she could help it. Freedom to go where she pleased, confidence to hold her own with little need to do so. And, perhaps least likely of all, not to be ruled by anxiety.

The image that burned itself in her skull was not entirely unfamiliar. An emblem that had popped up in her late-night studies, the desperate attempts to play catch up as a civilian fed to the wolves of the academy. She wracked her brain for the specifics, finding only vague definitions. "A secretive group...intelligence-based..." Oh. The pieces were coming together. And while Adean couldn't remember more of the group, those details alone meant alarming implications if they had clocked her deception.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

A gust of wind blew behind her back, as if a presence had run past her, "What name, Lady Fields?" The voice continued, utterly innocent in tone, yet the tinge of coyness was impossible to entirely conceal. A voice felt rather than heard, it was the way of madness that was ever so common amongst Sith, yet, usually amongst the old.

Never for ones quite so young, after all, she was not yet mad.

"And so tell me, what is it that you do with it, Lady Fields?" The air brushed her cheek, with the same gentleness as a lover's caress, if the voice noticed any of the subtle changes in her mannerisms and movements, it hardly seemed to warrant a mention. The air came to a halt at the continuation of her words, for a windy moonlit night, it was... unnatural.

"And what terms are those, how will you break your chains?" It was the first time since they had entered the balcony that the voice was truly heard, in front of her nothing more than the bannisters that overlooked the environs below, yet even not seen, a presence was ever felt.

"You have heard of us," The whisper continued, its direction multidirectional, as the wind gently pressed from different directions, "...Yet, know so little it seems," Ever onward, the sound of steps filled the balcony's ways, circling the woman, as if prey to be slaughtered, "What would you say," The voice rested only mere inches from her face, while still around her there was nothing but emptiness, "If we broke your chains?"

Adean Castor

 

[Oleander Webb]

WEARING: X
WIELDING: X | X
TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

The figure's insistence gave him pause. Curiosity was a concept Oleander understood well. Just as he also understood that knowledge had power. The Sith Lord was fishing for something, that much was as plain as day. Whether it was solely information on his employer or a slightly more nuanced combination of items remained to be seen.

"I grew up like most of my kind," he answered slowly, testing each word to enforce some aspect of control over what hidden meanings there were to be gleamed from them. "Trained to kill, excelled at doing so, made a livelihood of it." Did some work with a group, got attached, and paid for it in carbonite. "Spent time in stasis, woke up, back to work." Joined the Confederacy, got attached, and paid for it in madness. The pattern wasn't lost on the Anzat. Attachments seldom ended well for anyone, least of all him. And yet the blue Nexu plush was there, almost burning in his grasp.

The right of the two paths taken, Oleander's eyes narrowed as the questions pried further. "Are you hoping to outbid them?" He asked, voice creeping over the stillness of the hedge maze. A part of him wanted to fade into the shadows the hedges cast, to rip the hood of the other's coat from them. Why, maybe he'd rip the intentions behind this line of questioning from the other's thoughts as he added them to the sea of memory. "The specifics of the arrangement with my employer are for me and me alone. I'm sure you'd want the same level of discretion were you to be the one in question, no?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"Seems like quite the gap between making a livelihood of it, and being put in stasis, seems like there is a story embedded within that all unto itself," The masked Sith Lord continued his pace, a tone of voice implying interest, yet with a distance to it, as prescient as the distance that was being made between the Shadowlord and the Anzat, "Who trained you to excel in such things? Where did you spend your life? What drives you forward ever still?" The voice took on a whisperous quality, with every question asked, yet, their clarity never suffered for it.

Another fork in the road, and it had the figure take the left, another, and it was the right, and so the pattern went, as the hedges grew taller, and the darkness grew thicker, as if the admission that he walked this maze with a killer, and only provided greater, and greater opportunity to strike, did not even cross the Sith Lord's mind.

"Do you believe I could outbid them?" He countered, that was the question with the first tone of marvel and wonder, as if he was truly considering the answer for himself, as the armour clanked with every step, the cloak gliding along the grass below with nought a concern, "Certainly, alas, you could consider it my job to crack through such arrangements, if your loyalty to them is so great as to not reveal, then they have truly found themselves a worthy subordinate? I admit my envy." A smile was evident in the words spoken, as the darkness beckoned them ever further.

Oleander Webb

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

Another name she'd used. Another name she hadn't advertised using, granted, not one nearly as guarded as 'Adean'. How this figure had gathered both names, put two and two together, and lured her where she could be blindsided with the information, Adean did not know. Part of her didn't care to know, either, wanting instead to be anywhere but here and to never interact with this Darth Malum again. But doing so would never ensure her security, not keep him from revealing her web of lies to anyone else. No, she had to dig, find his sources and obfuscate them. It was the only way.

Another shiver ran down her spine as air made contact with her face. The touch was too purposeful to be merely air. "You work in secrets yet expect me to reveal my own? That's hardly fair." It was a far better response than to admit that she didn't have answers to his many questions. In her defense, she was still incredibly new to the Sith, having come from little to no context or exposure as to how they operated and now very much in the thick of it. No, it wouldn't do to hide behind such an excuse. Better to maintain an air of mysticism, pretend she wasn't utterly at a disadvantage.

The voice drew closer once more, still without a body despite the footsteps surrounding her suggesting there absolutely should be one. "Are you offering me a job?" She asked with a hint of incredulous, a break away from the careful calculation that ruled her senses. "As for my chains, well, I would then have to ask - what's the catch?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"Fairness?" The voice scoffed as the wind whipped against her face, the presence that was once so near, withdrawing away, "And with what consideration does the Lady Zambrano believe that she could expect fairness within the Sith Order?" The statement was made from a distance away by seemingly the bannisters of the edge, quietened not out of tone, but by separation, "Has your experience here taught you to trust, taught you faith?" The voice questioned ever still, remaining at the edge of oblivion as the wind continued to sing its haunting melodic cries in this darkest of nights.

A chuckle gave out, one that fluttered across the air at the credulousness that seeped into her voice at the question, the sound never before given in her presence, so seemingly out of character, that it was to surprise, that by the balcony, the masked lord finally revealed himself, his hands gripping on tightly on the rails, as a mask gazed out to the moon.

"Is that so difficult to imagine? He pondered, "A lady of such secrets and identities as you, inducted into the Tsis'Kaar, who prize ourselves as spies, saboteurs, and assassins?" He turned his head, with a hand motioning her to take a stand near him, gazing out into the depths of darkness, "You show distrust, very good, what is the catch? That is very simple," He turned his head away, "Your loyalty, to the Tsis'Kaar, and in exchange, you will have our loyalty, that we might break our chains together, and bring about a new age for this galaxy."

Adean Castor

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

"It has, actually," Adean had given up trying to deny the pseudonyms as the figure shifted to the Zambrano name. A part of her bristled at the continual use of 'lady'. She held no title, no station. The title made sense for the role of 'Sairyse Fields' and maybe 'Brassius Zambrano' (for even she wasn't sure what the proper terms of reference were for that name). Nevertheless, the honorific was tight on her thin shoulders, feeling wrong especially in the mouth of the disembodied shade as of it were someone else's coat. "It's taught me to trust others will look out for their own interests. I will not be ridiculed for doing the same."

When the figure finally revealed themself once more, Adean had more than half a mind to approach only to attempt to knock them off the balcony railing. Perhaps if she believed she could avoid taking the tumble herself, she would've done so. But her? Take out a Sith Lord? A pipe dream.

That also required the figure ahead to actually be the Sith Lord in question, a fact Adean was starting to question as well. They knew her secrets, it to be expected that she was not being told the whole truth. At the figure's beckoning, she approached a fraction, not trusting that she wouldn't go over the balcony should it strike his fancy. "So you want my loyalty in exchange for the chance to break chains. Maybe. That's hardly a good deal."

But rejecting the offer wasn't so simple, either. No, she suspected the time for simplicity had passed the moment her boots touched Jutrand. "And if I refuse?"

 

[Oleander Webb]

WEARING: X
WIELDING: X | X

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

"Spend time on Anzat, you'd see for yourself." The world and it's inhabitants had murder inked into their being since before the pen knew paper. It was a genuine answer to some of Malum's questions, albeit far from the whole truth.

"You could certainly try." The bond between the Wolf and Death went beyond that of employer and agent, master and apprentice. Nevertheless there was a hint of amusement in Death's voice. "I'd be quite curious to see what you might offer." And by extension, what his employment was valued at by an outside party. Stars, if it was a large enough discrepancy, Oleander might just have to demand the difference from the Wolf.

"Alas, I doubt my brand of loyalty, as you call it, is quite what you think. Like all, my employer is but mortal. In time, I shall reap them, too." As if to prove his point, shadows coalesced around his hand with a brief flourish. Nearly imperceptible in the night, the beginnings of a scythe formed between his pale fingers before shifting as the pale man changed his mind. Instead it was daggers that filled his hand before launching towards the shadow that lead the way. While precise in their initial targets, they were not meant to pierce anything. They were easy enough to dodge, too, should one find the shadows well enough to navigate.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The Sith Lord smirked beneath the mask, audible in his voice, "You misunderstood my meaning, it is good you have learned such a key lesson, and I will not ridicule you for doing so," He spoke feeling the presence of Adean Castor take her place by his side, though the hesitation framed her being with every step, it only widened the smirk, "I only meant had it taught you to trust in beliefs of fairness, to have faith in such concept as fairness within this Order?" The masked Sith Lord continued, staring off at something discernible off in the far distance, something which had taken hold of his eyes, instead of the true beauty standing nearby with her private unknown thoughts to send him toppling over.

"This Order has never been fair, you must dispel such fantasies if you wish to survive it," The mask turned to face her, "But of course, I suspect you already know that, indeed, the far greater question is," He leaned down, the mask mere inches away from her own masked face, what manner of thought went through their minds a mystery to the other, "Do you wish to survive it? Do you wish to be Sith at all? So far, we are from certain."

In a flash, he was towering over her once again, as cautiously signalling no intent for harm he reached into the folds of his dress robes, "We wonder, just as we do not know who for certain you are, are you certain of it yourself?" Drawing from within his robes, a simple handle, connected to blackened glass, a shikkar blade shimmered in the moonlight.

"We want your loyalty, but we offer far beyond that, we offer you allies, we offer you resources, we offer you safety," The smirk had long ago faded from his voice, "Yet, if you refuse, we shall hardly do you harm," He offered the handle to her, "Yet, you will always have a place with us, and as a show of our good faith, you need not be concerned with your various aliases, all documentation of them shall be purged once this meeting concludes, regardless of your answer."

Adean Castor

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

"You'd be surprised what inclinations people naturally fall into, especially when trying to present an image." Especially when intimidation was involved. There was seldom a greater equalizer than a Sith trying to reestablish their control over a situation. At which point, everyone became worms. Indeed, fair treatment wasn't wholly uncommon. It was equitable treatment that was the true rarity. "But I see your point."

She forced herself not to shy away as the masked face drew closer to her own. "Of course, I want to survive it." There was almost venom in Adean's voice as if she were offended by the implications, as if speaking with enough conviction would increase her chances of actually doing so. She steeled herself as the figure shifted to loom over her, sidestepping his questions for one of her own. "Does it matter?"

If she did her job, remained under most radars and just long enough on others, it shouldn't matter what she wished for or not, let alone who she actually was. Nevertheless, she stumbled back a step as the shrouded figure withdrew the blade from his outer robes. One hand rising ready to catch any blow from dealing more fatal damage, the other starting to scramble for her own dagger, she came to a halt once the handle was pointed her direction in offering.

Allies and resources were a tempting offer, even more so was security. The cherry on top, however, was the promise of documentation of her identities being purged. It was something she sought at the academy, too, to erase record of her existence so she could move freely or flee without consequence. For something of that nature to be offered, there had to be more to it. Or her luck was truly starting to turn.

Skepticism aside, the promises were too good to pass up, pinpointing just about everything she needed if she were to get anywhere. Her pale hand moved with caution as she abandoned her own blade, gently taking up the offered handle. "Alright, then, where do I start?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Chuckles echoed along the hedgerows, as they descended ever further into the darkness of quotidian nights, "I have never been myself, I will take it as a recommendation thusly, yet, I do not believe making landfall will leave me any closer to answering my questions, who trained you? Where was it you spent your life? What drives you forward now?" Echoes seemed the consistent theme of the shadow, as his cloak flowed across the grassy knolls of which they came across, a destination far from certain, the journey as much the voices traded as the steps taken.

"Alas, it is not my way to offer," The chuckles continued as legs took him down the left turn, then the right, it was a game, a game without rules yet played ever still, "It is my way to question, it is my way to grant, so I ask you, what is it you want, so I might grant it," It was as much spoken as it was whispered, it was as much whispered as it was... transmitted, the voice taking on an ethereal quality, as the words did not only drift across the air to their target.

But too were already within the Anzat's mind.

The shift in the air drew the barest of widening eyes from the masked Sith Lord, turning his head to the side, the incoming daggers made themselves far too evident for comfort.

Yet, slow enough for their purpose to be clear.

His fingers snapped, the power of the sun erupting before them, as despite all instinct Malum shuttered his eyes, hiding them from the great flash of light, as through unseen eyes, his feet finding themselves weaving between the daggers, as a hand ventured into his robes, between his dominant digits sat the simple hilts of three shining black glass blades, Shikkars.

"Will you? The Emperor claims himself immortal, Darth Carnifex has cheated death several times, and many more of their ilk walk the galaxy, are you so certain you will take them all?" The daggers flew, one to land embedded upon the dirt at his feet, the other through the widest eek of his apparel, and the last with such closeness to his hairs that the air was to be felt.

Oleander Webb
Mentions: Darth Empyrean Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Prazutis]

When the echani approached and stood beside him, he barely even registered her presence at first.

The hand presenting the offer over the fire remained in place. It trembled from the force he clenched his fist and blood trailed from the open wound still, dropping in a constant stream. But he didn't really notice it lost in his thoughts. It was the curse of longevity that twisted him like the gnarled roots of an old tree. ​

​

Memories of her became a prison from which he couldn't escape, and as someone who accomplished so much it terrified him. It didn't matter what he did to escape it she always came to haunt his deepest thoughts. When he turned inward the memories paralyzed him, when he looked outward, he could see her everywhere.​

​

Few knew the true extent of his incredibly long life, fewer still understood how time worked on Maena and how he was older still. Many would consider him the uncompromising, emotionless tyrant they saw him to be when he burned their worlds, destroyed their lives. But the truth was something more complex, in some ways he wished he could wipe it all away. ​

​

Just erase all the pain, the guilt, the emotion so it would wash away and leave him in peace. Perhaps that way he could erase the ghosts. Nothing could sate the guilt in his mind as it burrowed through the deepest recesses of his soul and savaged him. The words from the woman shook him out of the stupor, and right back into that fateful day. The giant could see the light fade from his childs eyes, hear her last apology. It was a body blow. "Quinn...I-" The Dark Lord trailed off. The formal introduction. Its not what he wanted, not from her.​

​

"Call me Braxus." He said lowering his hand from the fire. Once he unclenched his fist the wound sealed in moments. For a few moments he remained silent beyond the declaration.​

​

"She haunts me still. I see her everywhere. I replay that moment in my mind." The giants' hands twitched in response as the dark side reacted to his pain. Even now he was darkness incarnate it might surge like tidal waves growing ever larger as his pain deepened. "I am capable of many things. I command vast resources at my disposal, an empire's worth of forces. But this is out of my reach. I understand that, and that realization has brought me no measure of peace from her. She still walks beside me reminding me of how I failed to stop her." The Dark Lord turned his head. He could see Vesta standing there now, blood trailing out of her from the torn wound. ​

​

​

Quinn Varanin






​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The mask was tilted ever so carefully, an unspoken question beneath an unseen face, "Amongst the Tsis'Kaar you will find that there are many surprises, but indeed, few things will surprise us, after all, we are the ones most gifted in the presentation of images," The masked Sith Lord replied, a chuckle breaking the air, the first that seemed genuinely warm, genuinely considerate, rather than the subtle strokes of lampooning which had been addressed to her person thus far.

It only grew in intensity at the very real reaction she held to the display of the Shikkar, that she had been armed thus far confirmed, though always a risk, "My apologies for frightening you, my lady, it was far from my intention," He spoke with a certain calm, a certain ease that was from the arrogant displays that had thusly confronted her so far, it was a quiet confidence, ironically enough... a certainty.

"Of course it matters," He turned away from her, pointing out to the stars above them all, "This is a splintered Order, it has always been the Tsis'Kaar's cardinal aim, that even if empires fall, the Order will survive, such we will act to make certain its survival, but what is an Order apart from those members within it?" His masked gaze fell upon her for a moment, "We will require Sith, good Sith, powerful Sith, for all that will come next, will we find that in you..." He seemed to be searching for a name, some truth that was hidden by a thousand aliases.

He did not find that answer.

"If you wish to survive it, with us you will thrive in it," He broke from the balcony, taking the first tentative steps back to the party still ongoing through burlesque doors, "As for what you will do, easy enough, you will be summoned back to Jutrand soon, wherein you will move up through the ranks of the Academy, best to act surprised," If answer was hoped to be forthcoming of how the figure knew such knowledge, then she would find herself disappointed, "You will soon after receive invitation to Dorvalla, there, you will be inducted into our brotherhood."

Adean Castor

 

[Oleander Webb]

WEARING: X
WIELDING: X | X
TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

"No, I suppose it wouldn't." Oleander hadn't been to his homeworld in some time, since before he was tucked away in the slumber of stasis. How the world had changed, if the masters remained, and who or what they'd been replaced by were but a mystery. Something he'd ought to rectify, should the opportunity arise.

"You assume I want something. How interesting." The Anzat gave a deep inhale in consideration. The figure before him had a presence that much was certain, but the temptation of soup was near nonexistent. He'd made a point to suppress the urge to feed in the carnival itself, under strict orders to avoid unnecessary accidents. But here, where there should've been a veritable whale of sustenance in front of him, he picked up next to nothing.

A brief jolt of foresight saw Oleander's arm raise to shield himself from the bright light before his world was plunged into darkness. Either milliseconds too slow on the draw or the light had been bright enough that the effects of it superseded his attempt at avoiding the flash without a bang, the already hazy vision was replaced by nothingness. He could only hope it was temporary.

"No one has truly conquered I, not really. For I am not bound by time." Oleander's flesh was but a vessel for Death to operate through. However long that had been the case and however long that would remain as such would remain to be seen. Even if Oleander himself was long gone, Death would still remain.

Even blinded, he was not without his defenses, his senses beyond vision having been fine-tuned well before that sense began to betray him, his attunement to the Force included. One dagger embedded into the dirt at his feet as intended, another in between the layers of armor and cloth that jostled with the wind. The final one, Oleander gripped from the air, though not with the precision he would've preferred. A wet drip of blood, uninsulated by his heatless body ran down his hand.

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

In another setting Adean might've been drawn to the warmth in the Sith Lord's chuckle. Perhaps if they had been on more even ground that still would've been the case. Yet in this instance, she scrutinized the chuckle and then, once she was certain it wasn't intended as malicious, accepted it as it was.

Tucking her dagger back into it's hiding spot and smoothing her dress down over it, she didn't have an answer as to if she would be a good, powerful Sith. More likely than not, the answer would be a negative if she was being honest. The Force and her ability to control it seemed to come and go on a whim. Any progress she made in the academy was under false pretenses, her very presence there embedded in lies. Those weren't facts that would strike confidence in anyone for her future among the Sith, just as they weren't facts she was about to share on her own. "I've made it this far, haven't I?" She offered instead. "That should speak for something."

The further instructions she was given should be easy enough to follow. Very 'hurry up and wait'. Playing the role of surprised, even confused, would be more than simple enough. Before the figure could fully rejoin the festivities indoors, she spoke up once more. "About the academy, would it be possible to erase records of my being there as well? I don't want it done for me, rather resources and insight to do so myself." She couldn't trust another to get the job done, just as she couldn't really trust that whatever information the Tiss'kar had on her would truly be erased after this conversation. The less the Academy, or really anyone, knew about her, the better.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The masked head's sight was drawn towards the crimson droplets making a riverine current down the Anzat's hand, it had not been his intention, but as much with when playing with knives, his opponent so often made choice that would enact onto their own harm. Of course there was no part of him which blamed the man for his action, to be blinded, but know that shikkars were flying your way, would cause one's instincts for self-preservation to kick in.

Alas, such instincts could not overthrow the promise of the skills of one such as he.

The irony Malum supposed was, in the end, either outcome had made certain that he had never missed.

"We are on the dawn of a new millenium, less than a hundred years and it shall be seen," Malum's chuckles broke the air at seemingly some realisation, "I will likely not see it, after all, I am but a man," His stance widened, opening his arms outward both placating, and an offering, "Yet Kaine lived during the previous century, there are those who walk this galaxy who lived millenia ago, and return now."

The man's delusions had him calling himself Death.

It would not be the first time he had moved to coopt delusion, "You might wait for them all, you certainly seem the patient type, speaking so loftily," He withdrew his hands back to his side, offering a shrug of his shoulders, "Yet, there are those who have not only conquered life, but so too believe they have conquered time," Malum turned, and begin to walk away into the pits of darkness, "I assume you want something for all want something, I have beliefs fundamentally against those who seek to conquer life and time, I had thought we might have had that in common."

He fell into the inky depths, a bare whisper continuing on, "Are you false?"

Oleander Webb
Mentioned: Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The figure ceased his motion, as her words struck the back of his head, they were nothing spectacular, nothing truly warranting note, yet, between the raging celebrations within, and the words of the one which he had undertaken such preperations to meet with...

...Well there was little contest.

That her dagger was back into the depths of green dress, said green dress, that promised much, and left little to the imagination, which might have made weaker men drink in with sultry stare.

Alas, his vices were in other direction.

"I suppose it does, it is simply a question of if you will continue speaking, or now upon this precipice you will grow silent," The masked Sith Lord mused, as fingers wrapped themselves around the no doubt expensive, and perhaps antique doornob, its matter wooden of some sort, but that was as far as his knowledge went, it was the rest of her words which brought him to full pause.

Fill within him, the sensation that she might indeed not only speak... but truly, sing.

"It is a distinct possibility, likely more difficult if you attempt it yourself, the security at the Academy is amongst the greatest of the galaxy," The smile was evident in the tone of his voice, as every word was uttered, "Yet, that should be no obstacle for a Tsis'Kaar, after the ceremony where you shall be promoted, make your way to the kitchens, you will find everything you need to fulfil your desire."

He mused, if it should be him that would meet here there.

Adean Castor

 

[Oleander Webb]

WEARING: X
WIELDING: X | X
TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr

Malum's voice wasn't the only chuckle that pervaded the air. As before, there was no warmth to his chuckle, just as there was no cold. "A century is hardly noteworthy, depending on who you ask. Even without the mantle of Death, I've lived more than double the span of the Zambrano." More than triple, if his math was right (and if the records were to be believed). There was a common mentality among the Anzat. 'Eat well, stay young, live long.' Oleander had certainly done all of that to varying extents throughout his centuries.

A shrug overcame his shoulders, nonchalant. "That is a fair assumption, I'll grant you that. You'll forgive, however, that my wants take a backseat when it comes to identifying the unknown." Especially when said unknown was asking about his employers. Client/operative confidentiality was certainly a thing, but Oleander found himself treating such questions with extra scrutiny when it came to the Sith. Their internal politics were an item of headache, something Oleander would much rather avoid if he could. Still, it couldn't be helped when his chief employer was a dark councilor.

"But I'll indulge you, if only for a moment. What I want to know is your intentions, should I answer your questions regarding my employer. What are you hoping to learn?" He advanced slowly as he spoke. To any of a lesser mind, his words would've sounded akin to honey. A sweet trap to ensnare the hapless so he could extract the information (and a meal) himself.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Within the abyssal darkness, Malum could not help but raise an eyebrow at the claim, Imperial records placed Kaine's age somewhere above the century, for this Anzat to claim something even greater, nay, double that... well, it was not impossible, there were many a species of increasingly powerful venerabilities, the Anzat through their probiscused measures, counted amongst them.

Indeed, for all that this Anzat did not look the part of one he would imagine to be above two hundred years, what could he said to that, when it was not as if Kaine looked as if he had lived a century. Especially, when it came to the Anzats, such an age as he claimed likely only placed him at the cusp of adulthood.

Yet, there was ever the difference between what was naturally accomplished, even simply being long living, and being an immortal tyrant.

"...Is it so common then for Epicanthix to be sharing venerability with Anzat?" The voice echoed through the shadows of the path, luring the self-proclaimed death ever forward, into the mysterious shroud of what awaited.

Chuckles continued along the darkness as he listened to what the Anzat said, "I do not truly require information regarding your employer, I was simply curious what you would reveal, they are lucky that they have one so loyal to them at their side," Malum answered, easily enough, "But of my intentions..."

The darkness pooled out from the floor, raising ever higher, likes waves, after waves.

"I simply wish to know if I have a friend in my Crusade of Contempt."

Oleander Webb
Mentioned: Gerwald Lechner