Faction In Memoria

[Kaila Irons]

Kaila merely glared at the spirit.

"What. Temple?" she growled, possibly for the first time in Tamsin's presence, certainly since Tatooine at least.

There was something clearly wrong here and she hated not knowing what. Were she the type to believe in reincarnation, she would have joked that perhaps Tamsin was mean to the spirit in a past life. Though the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. If this spirit genuinely believed that Tamsin and this mystery woman were one in the same, perhaps their souls were simply too similar to distinguish, in which case perhaps the spirit inhabiting Tamsin's body was indeed an ancestral guardian of sorts. It would certainly explain why they hadn't outright possessed the girl by now. It wasn't exactly reincarnation, but in this way, the mystery woman had found a way to live on through the next generation.

But then there were new pieces to this puzzle. The specter referred to "Magick runes", and something about the word clicked. There were many superstitious cultures that referred to sith and jedi alike as "sorcerers" and "magicians", but this specter was supposedly a dark jedi herself, and so did not belong to such ignorant ways. No, there was only one practice that an educated dark sider would ever call "Magick", and that was the Witches of Dathomir. Thinking on it, She had seen strange runes while accompanying the witch turned Jedi known as Dreidi Xeraic to her enclave. Were these perhaps the same then?

"The last time "she" spoke to you... did she take the form of a Dathomiri woman?" she finally asked after careful consideration.

It was entirely possible that this was no force ghost they were dealing with, but a Dathomiri Spirit. If such were the case, she would need to study with or bring her to the Witches to understand the entity's nature.

This could change everything.


Tamsin Graves

 

[Tamsin Graves]

Tags: Kaila Irons
Theme: Dance Macabre

---

Tamsin heard the low growl in Kaila's voice as she asked what temple and gave her a glance. She could see Kaila was clearly frustrated with spirit or maybe even her. None of this made any sense to Tamsin, she clearly didn't know this apparition, but it knew her for some reason. She couldn't figure it out why it couldn't tell the difference between her and the spirit that had attached itself to her. This talk of temples, Magickal runes, and other stuff was almost to much what the hell did it even mean.

"There are ruins of a Temple, if I remember correctly, it was constructed sometime in King Adas's era possibly. However, it had been long forgotten until the Disciples of Ragnos rediscovered it on the Planet Zonju V. I was a keeper of the temple and member of the Disciples, is that enough of a damn history lesson for you?" The perturbed spirit spit out.

Zonju V, Tamsin had never even heard of such a planet but that was to be expected beyond the crown jewel worlds of the Galaxy she hadn't heard of many worlds and this had only ever been the third world she had been on. "Where is this Zonju V?" She asked again stutter in her voice as she asked the spirit.

"I'm not going to draw you damned map find it yourself." Then it eyed Kaila again with annoyance in its eyes. "She wore black leather, and she spoke to me in ur-Kittât fluently until she realized I wasn't fully fluent in that dead language. Then we spoke in Basic after that. I don't know if she was Dathomiri, how the hell am I suppose to know that she had hair covering her head I couldn't exactly see if she had small horns. Then again if she was, she could be one of the more human varieties among them. The runes could have been they weren't of anything I knew of directly; I figured them to possibly be Dathomiri runes but I could be wrong. There are all kinds of strange cults out there."

"Dathomiri?" Tamsin questioned; Kaila had kind of briefly mentioned them in there past conversations but Tamsin hadn't really thought of digging deeper until now. They were some kind of witch in the force that much she did know. Could she be or the spirit inside her be this a witch?

"This person if not the girl in front of me that looks very much like her." The apparition was sure this was some sort of trick to try and get them to reveal their secrets. "Like I said claimed to be a sith master, but some of the knowledge they shared with me to try to buy my secrets would be heretical to the sith or at least the sith I knew of and studied. I can tell you this girl before me looks a lot like her but with a little more life in her."

 

[Nouqai Veil]

Nouqai had always been self-conscious of how she looked. Even in her time within the Jedi order, she was picked on and made fun of it. And she had some encounters with those within the sith. While she appreciated the reassurance, but she wondered if it was because they grew up together, that he had was simply used to it to find it odd.

She hadn't quite thought about her next words before they came rolling out, "I don't know if you know this, but you're hot. You can get all the pretty girls in the galaxy if you only tried... and maybe take your brother's advice on fashion." Clearly the alcohol was getting to her.

However, her smile faltered slight when he admitted he had only been warning her about his snarky brother, and not because he had any interest in her to ask. "Oh, I thought you knew yourself..." She mumbled. It was silly to think about, he was her best friend. But then again, she didn't want things to be awkward between them.

Once again, she had finished her drink. "Should we get a shot? Never tried one of those before." She needed something strong, and quick. "And enough talking, we should go have some fun."

Balun Dashiell ​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Balun burst into an unexpected laugh, taken aback that Nouqai Veil , of all people, would say something like that to him. "Me? Come on! My hair's scruffy as chit, and I look like a total dweeb!" His laughter lingered, not only surprised but also poking fun at himself. "Besides, looks don't count for much if you've got the personality of a Hutt. What really matters is being decent to people and knowing how to have a good time," he added, his voice light as he drained the last of his drink.

But then Nouqai's tone shifted, and Balun caught the faint note of disappointment in her voice. She had misunderstood his words, thinking he was trying to confess feelings for her. His laughter faded as he waved his hands, urging her to pause. "Whoa, whoa—hold on!" he said, sensing her unease. "You sound disappointed?" His tone was more curious than accusatory, as though trying to figure out the situation. "Aren't we just talking here, trying to see if there's something real or not?" His gaze fixed on her, studying her reaction closely, though the alcohol in his system made reading the situation trickier than usual. Still, he didn't pull back like he might have sober. Instead, he leaned in, intrigued, more invested in the conversation than he'd expected.

"Like I said," Balun continued, a bit clumsily, "I've only had one girlfriend before. I don't really know what being in something serious feels like." His words tumbled out awkwardly as he tried to reassure her. "But if anyone could fit that, it'd be you." He paused, as if gathering his thoughts. "It's been you and me against the galaxy for years now, right?" There was a sincerity in his voice, despite his fumbling. In truth, there were only a handful of people who mattered to Balun. There was Nouqai, and then his family—House Dashiell—and his Rebel Dawn squadmates, but they were more colleagues than close friends. Outside of his family, Nouqai was the only person he truly had.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

The corner of his mouth twitched, almost revealing his amusement at the sight of her wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. His duties often demanded keen perception, rarely missing any details. Now, he could at least dismiss any notion of her being highborn-- not that such a thought ever crossed his mind.

His hand grasped the other half of the burger. Despite its temptation, he did not take another bite just yet, feeling more interested in their conversation at hand now. "We had several chats during my time there," he began with a calm voice, "and eventually his guidance led me to a path that aligns more with my.. nature, and natural talents. I reached a point where it felt as though I had outgrown what they had to offer."

It was easy to find a sliver of logic in her response, and he also did not fail to catch the narrowing of her eyes; no doubt, it was an expression that mirrored his disdain towards the weak followers of other Sith doctrines.

Kasir gradually leaned forward, and his elbows came up to rest more casually on the table. “While the academy has its share of flaws, there may be some resources there that are still valuable.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, briefly watching one the games behind Soah, before eventually focusing his attention back to the acolyte. "It would still prove beneficial to train with those around your current skill level, and be exposed to others with different strengths and weaknesses. Use the other acolytes to build your experience. Whether it be swordsmanship, Echani, other forms of unarmed combat, or more specific Force abilities, the outcome would be the same--growth and closer to mastery.”

A single hand moved to push back a few loose strands of hair. His tone remained smooth. “While the quality of the teachings there may be questionable, one thing is certain: the slightest flaw in your technique will be exposed by a more experienced opponent. Or rival.” There was a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders as he continued, “But with a second pair of eyes that sees what you can not, those that can refine every movement, every strike, you would become dangerous. In our duel, you displayed power, but it was not precise." There was more he wanted to say on the last part, but decided it would be best to save it for another time.

The Sith's brow furrowed slightly, and his lips pressed together to form a thin line, trying to think of the best way to ask his next question. “Tell me, what aspects of the academy are causing you to doubt it?”

 

[Darth Prazutis]

There was no question of what would happen here, the outcome was predetermined.

Nothing.​

​

If there was even a glimmer of hope at something different happening, he would've found it by now. Every outcome was explored, sacrifices were made by the tens of thousands in the blackest rituals. Entire worlds twisted in conflagration for nothing. The infinite resources of the Kainate, the fathomless depths of power wielded at his fingertips none of it was enough to give him what he wanted. In the past he always found some angle, some path forward to pervert fate itself, to once more subjugate it in his iron fist. It was one of his greatest gifts to do the impossible, to find something out of nothing. Out of the ashes of failure rose House Zambrano, their empire built at his fingertips. For all of his achievements nothing could be done. It was the single inescapable truth that taunted even the Mortarch.​

​

She was gone.​

​

It was soul shattering pain so deep it rocked him to the very core. It broke him like exploding glass, turning his mind into powder. The depths of his agony ran beyond description, beyond comprehension to most. The mere mention of her name in his presence was a capital crime, up until now he barely said anything at all about her. Lately, everywhere he looked he saw her ghost. The crimson hair flowing in the wind, her scent catching on the air. Everywhere he looked he was tortured by that one moment when life faded from her eyes. When blood soaked the stone and he watched her existence fade, at times he could see her blood soaking his hands, smell it in the air until it nearly overwhelmed him. To nearly all other emotion he was a cold statue, that's what made the pain sting even more.​

​

"Vesta."​

​

It took everything he had to speak her name to the air, and even then, the agony nearly overwhelmed him. The Dark Lord stood alone at this particular shrine; the very stone seemed to vibrate with barely contained power. The dark side freely flowed from his body, amassing to critical levels. The giant was clad in a simple black robe, its hood pulled over his face. She was many things to many people. But to him? She was his daughter. But no just a child, she was the child. She was everything he could've ever wanted. She forged her own path and climbed to the highest echelons of power, inheriting the legacy of the Sith Order. She was truly a befitting heir if there ever was one. Not even Joycelyn came close to the bright star that Darth Mori became. She was perfection made manifest, the true heir of everything he and his nephew possessed. A daughter who possessed half of her father, and her mother forged into one. She was many things to many people, but she was always Vesta to him.​

​

"I failed you. How did I not foresee it coming? I should've been there for you. I should've protected you." The Dark Lord held his hand aloft over a burning fire, and he sliced open his palm and let the black blood within flow freely to the raging fires below. It was a father's prerogative to protect his child, and he failed. She never should've been pushed to that point in life. Centuries spent honing his skills, growing in strength and power through trials, experiences. All of it should've prepared him to defend her. Such a short life to live it should've been his time, if someone had to go after all why did it have to be her? Why couldn't it have been him? After all he'd lived long enough, she was more than capable of handling her inheritance, standing beside his nephew and forging a new future together. Every moment he blamed himself for the outcome that day. For all her experiences, success she was still nothing more than a mere child, the child of an immortal. She had many lifetimes to live yet, to experience the wonders of life on Maena and at home. Instead, he was only left with dust and echoes of a broken future. A life where existence was pain.​

​

All suffered for his pain.​

​

The pain he felt became the driving force behind every horrific act perpetrated by the Kainate. Every genocide coordinated by his hand; every planet burned he devised the plan. In time it became nearly all he did, governance and genocide. Beside his nephew they were an unstoppable duo together, he stood as Shadow Hand and Mortarch. In time he blamed everyone and everything for what happened. The Alliance, the Brotherhood, himself. It evolved to include everything his pain would drive him to crush. Still nothing would ever be enough to dull it, to silence the ghosts haunting his mind and forcing him to see her, to hear her voice.​

​

"I failed you."​

​

​

Quinn Varanin






​

 

[Nouqai Veil]

He noticed, picking up on her change in tone. "Are we? It sounds like your brother is real nosy about your love life, and you're only trying to find an answer for him when he asks." She said shrugging. Falentra knew better than to put her feelings in the line, but yet she couldn't help but feel slightly upset he would bring it up and then simply brush it off with his brother as an excuse. She didn't know how the dynamic between Balun and Makai was like, but likely it was validation from his older sibling he sought.

She was too inebriated for this.

There was only one relationship she had, when she'd been with Koto, but it had more downs than it did ups. She had been new to the world of the sith, it was nice to have some company, but it had became much an obsession than anything else. "We’re good friends. But I'm not going to be a placeholder girlfriend just because you want to show your big brother that you're in a relationship." She sighed. Why was she growing so upset over this?

"Besides. I am a sith apprentice, I have my own commitments, so do you."

Balun Dashiell

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Objective: Carnival Row
Location: Carnival Row
Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

It stung to hear Kasir say aloud what Soah already knew in her gut -- her power was raw but far from precise. She swallowed hard, her pride making it difficult to admit, even to herself, that he was right. As he explained the benefits of the Academy and why he'd left, it left her with a lot to think about. What was the point of all this power if she couldn't control it, couldn't focus it into something sharp and deadly?

When Kasir asked what was more in line with her nature and natural talents, Soah's ears perked up. That question intrigued her. As a Felacatian, she had instincts and abilities that set her apart from most of the other acolytes. But socially? She wasn't like them. Some of them, like the Firrerreo, had been street rats or orphans who clawed their way to the top. The Firrerreo girl had somehow made it to First Cohort, already neck deep in studying Sithspawn and familiars, and Soah had barely managed to swipe some journals on the subject. That was one way she was teaching herself, though the ancient texts were still a struggle to read.

That, too, needed to change.

Soah hesitated before answering Kasir's next question. Her hazel eyes darted around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. It wasn't easy to admit weakness in a place like this.

"I'm not used to this... standardized way of training," she confessed, her voice low. "The Fifth Cohort is mostly just... survival. We're left to fend for ourselves and figure things out, which is fine, but there's no freedom to focus on what I'm actually interested in."

She glanced down at her hands, where her shadowy, sentient tattoos rippled across her skin in subtle patterns. They never seemed to stop moving, always shifting, reacting to her moods. "We're given this broad range of subjects that just... confuse me more than help. Sith philosophies make my head hurt."

 

[Lily Rhodes]

Lily did not like the way he smiled at her, it reminded her a little of a cat playing with its food, but she'd spent long enough practising hiding her true feelings that she was able to return it. She dared not take her eyes off him, following the gaze to his hand as hair became ash. She swallowed nervously, taking a larger sip from her drink.

All this talk of hiding in plain sight and she was slowly beginning to realise that he was probably hiding a lot more than most people here. Though who was she kidding? She was standing in a room full of Sith, people who had accepted the dark side without question, whose very nature was to take what they wanted, to sacrifice whatever was necessary. They all did it for different reasons, some had managed to convince themselves that their cause was noble…or necessary. While others were unabashedly chasing power.

His words about monsters made her grip shift nervously on her glass. She'd thought Darth Strosius was a monster, but in truth, she'd found she'd had more in common with him than she had with her own cousin.

Credius's eyes caught her attention and she found herself hypnotised by them, curiosity burning in her chest despite the warnings screaming in the back of her mind. "Which are you, Credius?" she asked unable to stop herself "Are you a true monster, or are you fighting against it?"

There was no doubt that he was a monster, either way.

Credius Nargath

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Her words hit him like a bolt from the blue, causing him to sit up straighter and instinctively pull back from the easy, close proximity they'd shared. His surprise left him suspended between a laugh and an apology, but instead, he simply stared at her, momentarily lost for a response. The idea that his conversation about their relationship was motivated by appeasing his brother's expectations had completely blindsided him.

"Chit, Nouqai..." he muttered, a cautious smirk tugging at his lips. It was rare for them to be on opposing sides of an argument, but she had just shown the backbone he always knew she had, especially when pushed. "It ain't like that. Yeah, Makai suggested we talk about how we feel, but only for our sake. I started this to keep him from cracking jokes later, but clearly, there's more to it, judging by where we've ended up," he chuckled dryly, shaking his head. His hand rose as if in surrender, trying to ward off any further tension between them. "Forget I said anything. I shouldn't have brought it up," he added, his tone softer now, trying to retreat from the conversation and avoid upsetting her any more. He just wanted them to enjoy the rest of the evening without the weight of an unresolved argument hanging between them.

Balun had spent most of his life guarding his emotions from others, with Nouqai being the one exception to that rule. Even so, he could come across as emotionally oblivious, especially when it came to the subtleties of relationships. Being a guy, his default when things got vulnerable was to crack a joke or change the subject. This time, though, a sarcastic quip didn't seem like the right move. Instead, he raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention, deciding to lean into the moment with something lighter.

"Two rattlesnakes, please," he ordered, nodding toward the shots Nouqai had suggested earlier. The seconds stretched out like minutes until the bartender returned with two glasses of green liquor.

"Tonight's on me, alright? Don't worry about the credits," Balun said, sliding one of the drinks toward her with a grin. "Let's just keep having a good time."

Nouqai Veil

 

[Kaila Irons]

"I only needed a name." Kaila shook her head dismissively at the spirit.

"Well, I've spoken to enough dead things for one evening."

She turned away and waited for Tamsin to follow, having had enough of the spirit's antics. Whether any of this was true, merely mad ramblings or a ruse, who could say, but it was becoming clear they had gleaned all they could from the thing. Clearly whoever had attached themselves to Tamsin was indeed sith, the fluency of their ur'Kittât unusual even for the most studious of jedi, and their runic scars disproving any connection to the light. It was a bit of a gamble, but she knew witches of both practices who may be able to help identify the spirit if she offered them something in return, and even if they couldn't help, she had a name now. Zonju V. She could probably find on her starmap or in one of her old books, and if it were hidden for whatever reason, perhaps she could recruit the aid of Spek Zhio for astrogation. Either way, they no longer needed the spirit.

"Come, Tamsin. Why don't we try the carnival snacks while I answer your questions, or maybe mingle at the dance. I've been learning more about the Dathomiri lately, and it seems an appropriate time of year to discuss Witches after all"



Tamsin Graves

 

[Nouqai Veil]

Falentra had clearly made the air between them more tense than it should be. But even with Balun, she wouldn’t allow her own feelings to be potentially toyed with.

She had wanted to ask what he meant by ‘more to it’ but given how she had misinterpreted his past words and jumped into assumptions, she didn’t think continuing on with the topic would be conducive… especially not when her head was still muddled with the effects of alcohol.

“Yeah, I’ll try my best.” She stated with a sigh. She didn’t want to make things awkward between them when they were here to have fun. However, after how he mentioned love and a prospect of a relationship between them, how could she possibly erase that from her mind?

“Thank you.” She said with a smile as the shots were served. While she could have split the bill, she was thankful for the small treat. “A good, fun evening. “ She brought the small glass to her lips, tipping her head over as she downed the shot. As the potent alcohol hit her tastebuds, her face scrunched up. “That was awful. Remind me never to do that again.” She laughed.

“Come along, let’s see what games and rides there are. Maybe if we’re lucky, could win some prizes. “ The sithspawn took her friend by the arm, dragging him towards the heart of the carnival.
Balun Dashiell

 

[Irina Jesart]

Irina slipped her arm around his waist as he stood, offering further support her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't even think about the moon, she hadn’t even bothered to check. Why had he come?! He knew…he had told her as much in the maze not to look for him on the next full moon, that he was certain his first change would happen…that if she didn’t hear from him, he would not have survived it. Irina swallowed hard, burying the rising panic in her chest.

She didn't just hear his bones crack, she felt it reverberate through her arm, the sound and sensation made her stomach churn as she pulled his arm over her shoulder holding him upright. Searching the crowds wildly for any sign of the Executioner. She tugged Aerik forward, not wanting to pull him deeper into the carnival but she was left without a choice. She couldn’t leave him alone to suffer through this, even if it meant putting more people in danger.

Irina tightened her grip on his waist, squeezing the hand she’d pulled over her shoulder.

“We’ll find him. Just hold on.”

The carnival was full of people and noise, eyes slid their way confusion crossing their faces as they tried to discern what was happening, none of them were who she was looking for. Fear was clawing at her chest, not for herself, but for her friend. If she didn’t find him help, he might not survive the first change.

Just when she thought it was impossible, that she wouldn't find him in time, she caught a glimpse of him in the crowd, features so similar to Aerik’s that it was impossible to miss him. All decorum went out the window.

“Lord Lechner!” she shrieked, the panic evident in her voice.

Gerwald Lechner Aerik Lechner

 

[Balun Dashiell]

"Oh, relax. It's totally fine," Balun grinned, watching as Nouqai reached for her shot glass. It was hard to tell if he was referring to the alcohol or the heavy conversation they'd just shared, but for him, it was the latter. While she seemed a bit unsettled, he wasn't feeling quite so bad. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Balun's natural optimism assured him that nothing between them would change—at least not for the worse.

With a playful smirk, he grabbed his own glass, raising it in the air. "To having fun!" he declared, before tipping it back. The cool liquid hit his tongue, heavy at first, before igniting into a fiery burn that seared the back of his throat. He shuddered involuntarily as he swallowed, resisting the urge to gag. This drink was far stronger than the previous ones, and almost instantly, a warmth spread through his chest, chasing away any lingering doubts.

Leaning back, he planted his hands against the counter, steadying himself for a moment. He had been throwing back his drinks faster than he realized, and now, with a break looming, the idea of standing up seemed oddly intimidating. Still, the carnival called to him, and he couldn't resist the thought of wandering through it with lightness in his head and a grin that wouldn't leave his face.

When she looped her arm through his, Balun chuckled, practically pulled from his seat as he stumbled a few steps before regaining his balance. Walking beside her, he couldn't help but boast, "Games, huh? What do you think they've got? Bet I'll win," he said confidently as the two of them ventured away from the bar, their laughter blending with the bright energy of the night.

Nouqai Veil

 

[Nouqai Veil]

She could feel the alcohol in system, dissipating all anxieties. She hadn’t had that much to drink within such a short span of time. Only time will tell if she had too much.

She barely registered when her friend stumbled as she made her way towards the game stands with determination. Falentra laughed at his confidence. “I heard that carnival games are ridiculously hard to win - that many are rigged.” She commented. Especially in sith space, it wouldn’t be a surprised if they were altered to the stall runner’s favour. She found a stand, a small rifle range. Balun would be better with blasters than she was.

“Tell you what. If you managed to get all the targets on your first try, I’d give you a kiss.” Although her tone made it seem like she joking, she would be rather impressed if he actually managed to.

Balun Dashiell

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Balun snorted a laugh as he stood at the sharpshooting stall, surveying the distant targets down the aisle with an air of confidence. "You sure you want to make that kind of bet?" he asked, flashing a cocky smirk. He was in his element here. Handling a blaster was second nature to him, having owned and customized his own K-16 Bryar Pistol. These imitation pistols, more akin to airsoft guns, hardly compared to his blaster's real kick. But even in this casual setting, surrounded by toy firearms, his confidence was unwavering.

Of course, there was a slight complication—the alcohol. He'd had one shot too many, the last one really putting a wobble in his step. Still, the temptation to use the Force tugged at him, though he'd kept it minimal to avoid drawing the attention of any Sith who might be lurking nearby. But Nouqai Veil had challenged him, and who was he to refuse a lady's gamble?

"Alright! Let's do this!" Balun called out to the Rodian Game-Master, who approached to hand him the imitation blaster. Balun grinned as the Rodian treated him like a rookie. Playing along, he feigned a concerned voice, his eyes wide with mock seriousness. "This thing won't hurt my arm, will it?"

The Rodian waved off the question, reassuring him, "Oh no, you'll be fine. Very low caliber, almost no recoil at all."

Balun threw a smirk over his shoulder to Nouqai, followed by a playful wink. Taking the blaster in his right hand, he felt its weight, a faint echo of the real thing in his grip. The targets began to move, two lines gliding in opposite directions—some targets represented cute animals, others more menacing predators. It was easy to know which ones to aim for.

With a steady breath, he closed his left eye, lining up the sights. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled slowly, letting his breath leave him completely before squeezing the trigger. Shot after shot rang out, the semi-automatic pistol firing smoothly as he guided the weapon, each metal pellet hitting its mark with precision.

 

[Nouqai Veil]

The Rodian would give her friend a short briefing on how to operate the fake firearm. Falentra couldn't help but roll her cyan eyes when Balun played along, as if he didn't possess a real one of his own on the daily.

"Good luck," A small chuckle fell from her lips. She watched as he stood at the ready, his arm flexing, steading the toy blaster in her grip. The targets moved, and Balun began his round of shots. One by one, the targets flipped down upon impact with a sharp ring. Balun cleared 5, easily with another 5 to go. He clearly had a lot of practice and experience.

He cleared another two with three more left, then two. Until he was left with a last. It looked like he'd be getting that kiss after all. She watched as he pulled the trigger, sending the remaining pellet towards his target. A ring sounded as the pellet impacted the metal figure with sharp precision, just like 9 before.

But it did not fall like the others.

The game was rigged.

"You've got to be kidding." She scoffed, giving her friend a look. He had clearly hit the last target.

Balun Dashiell

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Balun lowered the blaster for a moment, his eyes locked on the last target as it swayed back and forth. He stayed silent, even as Nouqai Veil muttered something under her breath. The Rodian Game-Master grinned smugly, but Balun paid him no mind. His gaze narrowed, and with a subtle squint, he reached out with the Force, probing the target's design. As expected, it was rigged—reinforced from behind, set up so no one could actually beat the game.

Taking a slow, measured breath through his nostrils, he quieted his thoughts, focusing intently on the space around the target. To the others, everything seemed to be moving as usual, but to Balun, time felt like it had slowed, his senses sharpening as he zeroed in on the molecular makeup of the metal frame supporting the target. His vision shifted as if his consciousness extended beyond his physical self, connecting to the vast energy flowing through everything around him.

The deep focus he was using, a technique drawn from the art of alkahest, was something he'd learned at the Coruscanti Jedi Temple. It allowed him to manipulate matter at a minute level, and in this case, it meant gradually weakening the metal holding up the target. To an outsider, nothing changed, but Balun could feel the frame giving way, its structural integrity dissolving as if the very air around it were eroding the alloy like acid.

He still had four rounds left in the clip of his imitation blaster. More than enough. His shoulders tensed as he raised the weapon again, aligning the ironsights with his right eye. His jaw clenched, and while he maintained his focus on the Force working against the bearings of the frame, he squeezed the trigger four times in quick succession. Each shot was precise, hitting the center of the moving target.

Suddenly, the target dropped with a sharp metallic snap, the sound of something breaking and clattering behind the counter. The Rodian's smug grin turned to shock as he spun around, shouting a string of unintelligible slurs. Balun, smirking to himself, calmly lowered the blaster and set it on the counter.

Turning to Nouqai, he shot her a glance, his eyes gleaming. She'd understand what it meant. He had won their bet.

 

[Nouqai Veil]

While she had expected it, there was still the disappointment surfacing. This game was impossible to win, at least for a non-force user.

A smirked played on her lips as she felt him reaching out through the force, towards the mechanism that rocked the targets, to the one still standing. It was fair play for a rigged game. She had rose a bet, too good to turn down. She remained quiet, allowing him do his thing. Then admiring the determination and focus in his eyes as he raised the firearm.

Three shots hit the target rapidly with remarkable precision, but his last remained shot was followed by a loud snap as the target fell. He had broke the apparatus.

All that for a kiss.

Falentra had hoped he win. She let out a light laugh as he turned towards her, expecting her to hold up her end of the deal. With a step, she closed the distance between them. Somehow the prospect of kissing her best friend did not seem daunting or nerve-wracking at all, likely with the effects of the alcohol. "A deal's a deal." A clawed hand wandered to his chest, pressing gently.

Her other hand rose, snaking around the back of his head. She didn't hestitate before leaning in with her mouth parted, her cold blooded lips pressing against his. It wasn't just simple just a peck on the lips, he deserved more than that.

Balun Dashiell

 

[Balun Dashiell]

The alcohol made the next few moments irresistibly enticing, and without hesitation, Balun leaned into the kiss. His hands slid around Nouqai's waist, pulling her closer as their lips met. What followed was a moment he could only describe as electrifying and heartfelt. Her lips were cool against his, but his heart felt ablaze, everything around them fading into the background as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the intimacy of the moment.

When their lips finally parted, Balun found himself reluctant to let go, breathing audibly as their foreheads rested together. His stomach fluttered, as if everything inside him had shifted in all the right ways. Nouqai's bold move had literally taken his breath away. Normally, he might've cracked a nervous joke, but in his intoxicated state, combined with the sudden clarity of his feelings for her, his mind was spinning. He had always guarded himself emotionally, playing things off casually, but that kiss had ignited something undeniable. It was as if everything they had talked about earlier was now made unmistakably real.

"Woah..." he muttered under his breath, his hands slowly falling away from her waist, giving her the space to step back if she wanted. But in that moment, all he could think was how much he wanted more moments like this—private, meaningful, and unexpected. Especially if it meant discovering something deeper between them. With a grin, he caught her gaze, trying to read her expression. "Talk about a win..." he said playfully, his eyes searching hers, hoping she had enjoyed it as much as he had.

Nouqai Veil