Faction Life Day Extravaganza (The Sith Order/Allies)

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He took the utterance of his name as the closest thing to permission he would receive, turning his head upwards, dulled red eyes welcoming the confusing silver-gold eyes that stared back. Weakening his external walls so that he might reinforce his mind against the influence of the entity inside his brain that would be all too willing to draw both sabres and... and... and...

It did not bear needing consideration for what a foolhardy decision it would be.

Control was beyond him, controlling something which could not be touched, could not be threatened, could not be swayed was an impossible task indeed, and though in months after that fateful day on Fiviune he had developed some theories and ideas on how it could be countered, featuring heavily those other voices that had echoed through his mind. Such was a difficult proposition when his own thoughts had become his enemy in the pursuit of excising the entity.

Of course in those weeks and months since, he had begun to try to understand the fragment, the fracture in his mind, its identity was well known to him, even if after all this time he had refused to call it by its name. A childish attempt at denial when the truth was written well perfectly in his mind. It was a primal thing, roaring at any threat if it approached, quick to anger, quick to scold, quick to taunt, yet it paradoxically above all else, seemed to desire to protect him.

Malum remembered on Odacer-Faustin when it had almost begged him to unleash it upon the Jedi Shadows when taunts had failed, taking control of his doppelganger to battle when he was outnumbered.

When its headaches and taunts had not only revealed what he had not seen himself but also given him information that he could not possibly have known.

Relics, memories, of a bygone age, memories that only one other person possibly could have.

Malum did not delude himself into believing such boons were given freely, that the entity did so out of the kindness of its non-existent heart. No, after all, one only needed to glance down at what he wore to know what the entity desired.

Malum only needed to look into the mirror and remember, he was beginning to forget who he was, to know what it wanted.

He had a time limit, that much was certain, how close or how far he was from the clock running out was a mystery, but just now, he felt that perhaps he had extended the time he had.

It was a quirk of the entity, whatever it was, though foreign to him, seemed wholly unique to him, or perhaps he simply had not known her as much as he had thought. He had noticed it, whenever around certain figures, certain... special figures. The headaches had grown worse, the urge to commit action, rather than convincing, was forcing.

The entity wished for revenge, it threw rationality to the side and simply tried to take control to force him to undertake its will, and there, would be its fault. For Malum was able to resist, through immense pressure, through searing headaches and a war between souls, when they competed, they were not working in concert, his freedom restored... for some time.

If needing to be around those who hated him, who he hated, simply those who triggered such phenomena.

Well, it was a price he would simply and happily pay.

So it was as he was commanded, the armoured figure rose at his Empresses' command, lips dry, simply nodding at her words, it was at the mention of his sister, that a brief moment of clarity claimed his brain, a ghost of a smile appearing at his lips, "Unfortunately not... I have not seen her... in some time," It was a hesitant confession, but all the more concerning to him, it was a confused realisation, memories were drawing blanks, when was the last time he had seen any of his family?

A tinge of guilt made itself to its fore, quickly hidden behind a forgery of a smile, "But I will do my utmost to bring her to the next soiree, all of them if I would have it my way... I had not realised Sophia, had made such an impression upon the Empress," Malum intoned, mind working through the pain as he considered what that meant, the Empress was to Malum's mind still perhaps one of the strangest women he had ever met, confusing him at every turn.

He was not sure if having his little sister on the Empresses' radar was a good thing at all.

It was as she asked her last question, long having returned to her husband's side and attention that he gave perhaps the only true smile he had given the entire evening, "As your Imperial Majesty wishes."

Of course, such a smile was quickly wiped off his features, returning towards his neutral mask of an expression, as he almost, for but a second, considered giving into the force that was attempting to take dominion of his soul. Darth Empyrean, the Emperor to whom he had... surrendered... his loyalty to always had that effect on him. He had done his best to ignore the eyes that had been staring right through his soul, the entire time that he had been speaking to his wife, but every second, it grew harder, and harder to ignore.

Until rubies met gold, and Malum could only say a certain few worlds, or otherwise no doubt die a painful death.

"As your Imperial Majesty wishes."

Srina Talon Darth Empyrean

 

[Revna]

Yes-he definitely took offense to her question, Revna mused as the Defel gave her his prickly reply. She made sure to keep any sense of guilt or embarrassment for offending him off of her face and from her emotions, though after a moment of staring at him, she dipped her head ever so slightly in acknowledgement of his threat to her, though she had her own retort to give back to him.

“Seeing as I’ve been in a cage for the majority of my life until recently, it makes sense that I would have no idea who or what you are, or what the majority of other beings are in the galaxy. Sometimes one has to ask hard questions to gain the knowledge they seek. But thank you for enlightening me to that fact.” the little woman replied with a tight smile as she continued to regard him. That was when she noticed the change of items in the Defel’s possession-a glass in his hand where there had been a plate of food prior.

She frowned slightly; he had never moved, not that she had noticed anyway. This…disconcerted her, and she felt her guard rise a bit more. Something about him stirred her distrust, and she narrowed her eyes slightly in wariness before passing the same expression to Darth Valor who just seemed content to watch and listen to their exchange. Knowing that she was not obligated to stay and talk when she felt uncomfortable, Revna decided it was time to move on and maybe get some more food or even one of the drinks that the Defel had with him. She recalled his statement about the drink-something about it popping and fizzing when being consumed and now she was curious to try it for herself.

“If you’ll excuse me…I think I shall continue to mingle. Enjoy the party.” She said as graciously as she could, dipping her head slightly to both in the barest sign of acknowledgement she was willing to give them before turning and stepping away. She let her gaze drift over the crowd once more, and spied her mentor brooding some distance away, a drink now in his hand. She felt a smirk curl up on her face; apparently his conversation with the Sith lady had gone so well that he felt the need to grab a drink for himself. She felt it might be good to at least check in with him at some point soon, being as he was her superior here, but for now she was relatively happy to just enjoy being a guest at such a fine and luxurious event.

Revna leisurely flanked around the majority of the guests, giving most some space though she did pass by a few more closely, picking up hints of conversation as she did so. Her path caused her to intercept one of the many servants that meandered about carrying trays of drinks, and she politely snagged one before finding a place to stand on the fringes of the dance floor, watching the various guests intermingle and, for the most part, enjoy themselves with whatever company they chose to keep. Lifting the fine crystalline glass to her lips, she had her first taste of a stronger beverage, and found that she quite enjoyed the complex flavor and sharp crispness the fizz left in her mouth. She drank a bit more, and felt heat flow through her veins to her limbs and pool in her chest, warming and causing her to relax a bit.

She watched various individuals dance, her gaze occasionally drifting to the two Imperial sovereigns though she tried to keep her eyes away from them-though it was difficult as the Empress was just so beautiful and she couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at her. She didn’t know if they would be aware of her watching them but as she was slowly learning, there were abilities that one could use with the Force and she didn’t want to risk it too much. She didn't think they would take notice of her anyway; she was just a lowly Acolyte afterall.

The little woman let her curious eyes drift onward, feeling warm tingling spread through her cheeks as she finished off her glass of bubbly and let a passing servant take it from her. She noticed the Sith from earlier-the one who had greeted the dancing Empress and Emperor-was nearby and she studied the man from her periphery for a few moments. Whatever liquid courage she had drank almost made her step in his direction to engage in some sort of social interaction, but her legs refused to move.

So she stayed where she was, for now anyway.

TAGS:
Vazz
Darth Valor
OPEN

 

[Darth Xyrah]

Post: 4

"I wholeheartedly agree, Mister Laborr. Which leads me to the second part of my proposal. I wished to offer you a seat upon the SIBC Board of Directors. A secret seat, of course. You may appoint a puppet director to serve as your voice on the board so we might maintain appearances without suspicion. I would welcome your guidance and imput towards driving up the Sith Order's profit margins. And, to sweeten our arrangement, I would also be willing to make my vast library of military and technological schematics available for the Trade Federation's full usage in furthering it's own endeavours. As you know, my droid military is unrivalled in terms of numbers and might, and I would make such successful assets available to you, as well, on the agreement they be kept solely for you and the Federation's usage and not sold to the public. I do not wish to see my weapons being used by the Alliance, as you could assuredly agree such would be very antithetical to our arrangement, no?", Darth Xyrah said with a charming smile.

One of his protocol droid servants wandered over carrying a tray with two drinks upon it for Xyrah and his important guest. "So, what do you say, Mister Laborr? A toast to a beneficial new friendship?"

Rulonom Laborr

 

[Rulonom Laborr]

// LOCATION //: The Golden Palace :|: Eliad
// OBJECTIVE //: Secure Political Support
// TAGS //: Darth Xyrah
// THEME //: FEDERATION //: MARCH

---

---

D I R E C T O R

It seemed that Lord Xyrah was a reasonable person and accepted the viewpoint of the Director without much rebuke, unlike some of the other lords of the Sith Empire who thought rather foolishly that the Sith Empire could survive merely by having power or individual strength instead of a solid economic foundation. The second proposal that came forward after some time was a generous or perhaps suspicious offer of being given a seat on the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan's Board of Directors in order to guide the economic restoration of the Sith. Additionally the Trade Federation would receive access to military and technological schematics held within Lord Xyrah's personal holdings, which would prove quite profitable. There was no promise that the Federation wouldn't sell the designs to the Galactic Alliance if the Sith Order negated on their dealings.

Grabbing a drink from the protocol droid that passed by, "A fruitful partnership...indeed. Your proposals are accepted save for one. I shall recommend that you appoint a sith lord by the name of Lord Blepharon to the SIBC Directorship Board to serve as my personal representative as I am currently in a bit of heat with the SIA over our financial support of the New Imperial Order." Director Laborr explained after some moment of thought, wanting to deny the SIA any more secrets, and appointing an insider to the Sith Order as well.

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT OBJECTIVE - Mandatory Fun Day

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Darth Empyrean Srina Talon Darth Carnifex Darth Malum of House Marr , open to interactions.

---

In the seeming shadow of the newly minted Lord of the Tsis'kaar, there was an opposite. Rather than masked and war-clad, the Kiffar approached with the sheen of professionalism. Donning the crisp uniform of the Jutrand Police Inspectorate, he cut a figure that showed the best and brightest of the Sith's judiciary. His dreadlocks were coifed and fell about in practiced mattedness, granting him a leonine mane, accentuated by a well trimmed beard. But despite all the hygenic rituals practiced, his olive skin's shimmering revealed the bags under his eyes. The civil strife and expansion had been a headache for the Detective that moonlit as a mere Acolyte, and when he emerged much had changed.

The Triumvirate was no more, his cousin, Malum, was the newly minted head of the Tsis’kaar, and the Order left only two Emperors; One on Korriban and one on Jutrand, a Butcher and a Corpse. He stood before both, their presence doing little to assuage the doubts in his mind and the weariness he felt. It had been too long since he had contact outside of his work - so much so that Malum and he became much estranged since their days in the Palace of Silver Rain. So much so that the Kiffar did not even notify Malum of his presence here.

What the hell was he doing? How could he have let things slip so far awry?

For all their success, for all their strengths attained, the two cousins were now sundered by status and circumstance. For when the Consort of the Dead God wryly offered Malum a dance, there were other words that Emperyan seared into the air with unspoken disdain.

"Do better. Do more."

Such simple, delicious scorn that dripped from the mind of the Dead God - how much of it was echoed in Trayze's own mind?

"Do better. Do more."

How often had he said those words to Malum, whether in his heart of hearts or openly? How much did his disdain for the aristocracy, for those born and blooded in the Sith Houses to blind himself to the fact that they suffered all the same. While the words rang in his mind, the Kiffar began to lose sight of others in the room, feeling the bile in his throat and the air in his veins constrict and expand in a panicked pant.

"Do better. Do more."

He recalled how insignificant he was, a mere acolyte. Yet to be an apprentice, buried in the familiar routine of his former occupation, and how much had he succeded even in that? Sith flaunted their power, the citizens of the Order suffer, civil war was a bi-annual occurance, was this what he swore to uphold? If one such as Malum, who he jealously commended for his meteoric rise was chastised by the Dead God, what was he?

What was he?

He was the man who draped a coat over a sobbing orphan, trying to make sense of why his pappa had to die. He was the man who stared at a sneering low-rank Sith in defense of a shivering slave when no one else would. He was the rough and tumble rock to the politicking of his cousins in the House of Marr.

When he approached Empyrean and his Empress, he would announce who he was: Trayze Tesar, Lieutenant Inspector of the Jutrand Police Commisionerate, Badge number 443-222-8091. Trayze Tesar, Sith Acolyte, and spawn of Bantha herders and the outcasts of House Marr. Trayze Tesar, the man who would do more, do better... for the sake of his family.

For the sake of them all.

How long Their Imperial Majesties would have him, he wouldn't know, but his priority was to reconnect with Malum. To make right what was wronged. To show that not all was lost.

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Darth Malum of House Marr | Trayze Tesar | Revna [Also OPEN to Interact]
Wearing: Blue
Location:The Golden Palace, Eliad
______________________________________________________

It seemed to Srina Talon that Malum of Marr was always lingering right on the edge of something dangerous every time they crossed paths. The keen understanding of her people let her mentally assimilate several different possibilities in congruence with the current timeline. Would he press forward with meek subservience or unleash an unholy rebellion? Would he release what she had witnessed on Korriban, rather at her, instead of his sister? Would the edge of madness that seemed to creep to the forefront finally take hold and bring House Marr tumbling down?

That would be his fate if he chose unwisely. Not only his, certainly.

The actions of the son in court were oft perceived to reflect the will of his family regardless of his father's place. It was presence. It was time. It was Malum they saw—Malum who bent to the will of the snake—Malum who was decidedly picking up the pieces—Malum who negotiated with Empyrean—Malum who watched over his siblings with such dedication—And Malum, who ultimately, could elevate or destroy an entire planets population based on an almost spiritual belief that he deserved their throne.

Malum was not a servant, regardless, how he pretended to serve. It bothered her to see a wolf wearing sheepskin, the irony, to great and blatant for her to bear.

"A pity…", Srina breathed out with a metallic sense of disinterested contrition while the young Knight rose to his full height. That was…Better. She could see the wheels turning, though, his promise to bring his family to the next event drew an approving nod of her head. His words of his youngest sibling caused a ghostly smile to burn at the kiss of her mouth, easily, harkening to something unspoken. "See that you do. Think of me as a simple gardener Malum, lest, you forget humble beginnings. Any gardener should know of all the roses blooming in her earth."

All of the roses—And all the of weeds, pesticides, and insects that might harm them.

The hand that always seemed to find that of Darth Empyrean had returned as quickly as it had left. Almost as if they were magnetized, drawn together, as much as they were sheer opposites. He was made of stone. Rigid. She could feel the way he analyzed the young man before them without an ounce of mercy, pity, or reprieve. Srina broke the intensity of her husband's gaze by literally drawing his scorching eyes back to her own. He was stone. She, was water. "Meldanya*…He will."

It was only three words. One of them, familiar. A constant.

She did not refer to the Sith Emperor by any formal title unless she was baiting him. Empyrean was her husband, regardless, the chaos that thrived within him. That was what he would always be. She had wed a former slave, an ambitious banker, an inventor, and an incalculably brilliant mind. Not a crown. That was why her phrases, her names for him, were often Echani. The two words that followed seemed to be less of an expectation and more of a certainty.

As if she were somehow sure that it would come to pass.

Eyes of wicked silver-gold fell on Trayze Tesar for perhaps a moment too long. He didn't introduce himself and thus the Empress would let him make their acquaintances in his own time. Srina did not push for interaction without more information, but she did like to be apprised of those within the company of her chosen. His unform was telling…Which garnered a respectful nod from the wintry woman for his service. He would feel metaphysical fingers prying at the surface of his being, searching, before abruptly pulling away.

The Dread Queen could wait.

Malum interrupted her train of thought when he offered non-committal acceptance toward both her offer to dance and the words of wisdom from Empyrean. He played with fire…Perhaps, unknowingly. It might have seemed to be the safer play to keep prostrating himself and feigning neutrality but that only fed her husbands theories.

That the next generation was…Too complacent. Unfit.

"…Off with you then, my Knight. It seems that your presence is desired elsewhere. Come to me once you've made your rounds so the vultures don't feel ignored. You wouldn't want to rankle any feathers by seeming too possessed with your…Imperial Majesties."

The words not so subtlety held a barb, but, one that was tinged with glacial amusement. Srina pulled away from Empyrean so that she could eloquently bow out of the conversation in a cloud of blue and gold that spun beautifully under his arm. Pulling the Sith Emperor back to the dance floor and away from the reception area for their hosts. She seemed…So fragile, at his side. It looked wrong. "You are stronger because your experiences forged you with unthinkable consequence. He is still learning. Let him become, isilinya*. Let them all… Our people must learn to walk before they can run."

Golden orbs rose to the iron eyes of Empyrean and she turned slowly with the beat of the song. Every step was made to balance his lack of movement, timing, while leaving the actions effortlessly graceful. It was ironically nothing she had ever learned from dancing but from applying martial arts to read world scenarios. Dancing was quite similar to combat in many contexts, which, made sense to her.

"And if he does not learn…I will correct it. Try, try again."

There was something both sinister and coldly affectionate in regards to her mention of correction. Srina had taken responsibility for him, not so long ago, and she was certain that Empyrean would want to see returns on her investment. Soon. A million words flew silently between them with a single glance. They could agree, disagree, argue, and find resolution in the span of her heartbeat. In the end…They were always on the same side.

During one of the turns, she caught dark eyes watching them move, perhaps, more than most. Srina didn't acknowledge it the first pass and instead waited to see if such attention remained or even surreptitiously returned. "Is she known to you?", she asked her husband, though, he would let her spin round and round in his hand. A steel vase to hold the flower within, keep it safe, and upright. He caused her to shine all the more simply by existing. Curious and perhaps a little mischievous…She pressed a thought toward Revna that Empyrean would also hear.

<<Would you like to cut in little one?>>
​

Whether Srina meant to dance with the Acolyte or let the Acolyte dance with Empyrean? Who knew.

*Meldanya = My Beloved
*Isilinya = My Moon (Particularly meaningful, for Echani.)

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Empyrean watched the man kneel only as long as it took Srina to force his gaze away. None could move him were he not to wish it - his corpse vessel was under his control in a brutal, obtuse fashion. All he had to do was will himself not to move, and his will be done. Srina, however, held more control over his will than even he did - and so his gaze fell upon with a gentleness only she was able to witness in the iron forgings of his eyes.​

​

She proclaimed his destiny, his inevitability, but Empyrean only saw a risk. He said nothing, offered nothing audible to anyone about - but she would know his hesitations, be they a front to pretend to be the callous dead emperor he cultivated as a reputation, or something else. Was the Empire Empyrean's children, growing with guidance under his tutelage of strength - or was he beyond them in rank and spirit, so divided from their normalcy he could no longer care for their happenings.​

​

It mattered little, in the end, as the Empress drew Empyrean from his anchored place of teetering violence and into the Dance Floor. Some near let their thoughts read loud in their minds, conveying their surprised, concern, and conspiratorial assumptions about Srina pulling him on her own command. Despite the creed of Passion creating strength, it was relatively uncommon for Sith to marry for love - often they did so for political reasons, passions to the side, or grew so scarred by betrayal they wrote it off all together. For the Emperor and Empress to be equals, despite impressions of power and traditional Sith placement, was odd to these people.​

​

Empyrean festered on the hatred he felt for their assumptions and doubt. This was nothing new - wherever he stood, walked, or killed there was a dragging and constant anger. Perhaps it was misdirected from its true source, but Empyrean cared little for storing his already infinite reservoir of guilt, anger, and pride. Instead, he let it radiate in soft uncomfortable waves around him - so that all those who continued to watch would be filled with a growing anxiety, a growing fear.​

​

Duelists would recognize it as the soft ozone like smell of violence before violence - as though something were about to happen. Yet with Empyrean's masterful deployment of it, it was always to be something about to happen instead of something happening. The weakest willed among them began to avert their eyes and meld back into the crowds behind them. Most held their ground, though the microexpressions and frowns littering them only encouraged Empyrean. The fewest, down to only the strongest among them, could tell what he was doing, and allowed it to pass through them, absorb it, or ignore it entirely. A fitting way to filter the chaff from the wheat.​

​

"Would you have me break their houses, enslave them all so they might inherit my unthinkable consequence?", he said with something only she could tell was rhetorical.​

​

"They must both be able to rise under their own strength, and not stray too close to my sun. A very hard line to walk - if they fall either side, they die."​

​

When she had brought his attention to someone watching them, distantly, he sucked on his teeth and spoke only in soft tones;​

​

"Not one of mine."​

​

Srina Talon // Revna // Darth Malum of House Marr // Trayze Tesar​

 

[Revna]

Revna felt a cold yet elegant presence reach out to her, and a heartbeat later a voice-and not that of the Dark side which resided within her-spoke into her mind, asking if she wanted to cut in on the dance. Her gaze instantly snapped back in the direction of the Empress who was still dancing with the Emperor, and she felt the blood drain away from her pale face as her pulse spiked, especially as she felt a deeply dark and pressing aura of danger that seemed to flow and radiate out from where they danced together, and her instinct tried to force her to shy away and avert her gaze…but her spirit rebelled. She felt this outside…pressure…pushing against her and she pushed back against it, as if trying to throw off a heavy, smothering blanket.

Was it unwise of her to do so? Probably.

She should have known her curious nature would eventually attract attention. She wasn’t sure she wanted that kind of attention, but she had it now and she knew better than to ignore the voice of the sovereign. She had to tread carefully here, while still being herself. Cautious, but fearless-just as her Sith Mentor had encouraged her to be.

The liquid courage she had drank seemed to also be helping her feel a bit more bold than she normally might have been.

Her gaze narrowed ever so slightly, not in hostility, but in a way that would convey that she was trying to figure out just how to respond to such a question. She had never been taught how to dance; dancing was not a skill that a slave would learn. She hadn’t learned how to communicate to others through the mind either. She could read thoughts, see into the minds of others…but not speak into them. Not yet.

What a better opportunity to attempt such a thing? She was smart, and simple abilities that used the Force were fairly easy for her to pick up. She had figured out that much when she started her training under Darth Strosius.

The little woman in her simple black robe cautiously opened up her mental pathways to the Force, and focused on the voice of the Empress that had slipped through her mind like the cold breath of winter, and let her own voice respond-hoping that whatever she was doing would work.

-I see that my candid curiosity was not lost on you. Your invitation is tempting, but I’m afraid I do not know…how to dance, Lady Talon-

Though she truthfully wasn’t sure exactly how to address the Empress, she did her best to be respectful in her title usage. She hoped her sincerity would be enough. But she would accept correction if it came. How else was she to grow and learn if she wasn’t open to being taught important lessons that would help grow her as a Sith?

A thought suddenly popped into her mind…a dangerous thought that made her tilt her head to the side as she pondered if she should even risk asking the question that glared in her mind. A heartbeat passed, then another and another, and Revna chose to take that risk. She would get nowhere in her new life if she let her fear and anxiety hold her back.

-...but if the offer is on the table, I would love to learn how to, milady. Perhaps you can teach me? I'm ever eager to learn something new- she mentally whispered to that same voice that had reached into her mind. She didn’t know why that thought had popped into her head. Maybe this wasn’t the place or time for such things, but the little woman felt it was at least worth asking.

She doubted her Mentor would be willing or comfortable enough to teach her how to dance anyway.


TAGS:
Srina Talon
Darth Empyrean (suppose I'll tag you too since you're with her lol)
Darth Strosius (since I mentioned you)
OPEN to Interact

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Darth Malum of House Marr [/USER] | Trayze Tesar | Revna [ [MALUM I LOVE U BUT YOU TOOK TOO LONG SO I SKIPPED YOU]
Wearing: Blue
Location:The Golden Palace, Eliad
______________________________________________________

His gaze was iron.

But within such metallic assets, she found a perfect sense of equilibrium. Darth Empyrean had become everything the Jedi feared he might; Everything the Sith required. He was not quite the man she had married. More and less. But…The Emperor would hold her heart unto and into eternity. She could still see the partner that she had chosen, lingering, in the great shadow the red-haired corpse cast. That was what let her look upon the dead with love—With favor and forgiveness.

She could feel how little Knight Malum left her husband…Uninspired.

It was to be expected.

Srina had always held a sixth or perhaps seventh sense about those within her sphere and was rarely ever wrong. None that she knew from her days in the Confederacy would have ever thought that she would find common ground with Darth Carnifex and yet, often, they kept one another's counsel. They oft agreed to disagree but there was common ground. It boiled down to the wintry woman seeing something that others did not. The same held true for Darth Malum of House Marr .

When she pulled Empyrean back into a leisurely spiral across the dance floor it was without a shred of care toward who might have been watching. Often, the Order made wild assumptions about their connection or the way they always seemed to be in lock step. There was no way to get to the Emperor through the Empress and vice versa. Srina was prepared, perhaps, for the worst-case scenario in which her husband became her enemy…But he knew it. Her defenses had been readied in the event that the malignancy that coursed through Empyrean overcame the spirit of the man.

If she ever fought him—It would be with the entirety of her soul. Loyal to the last.

The uncomfortable aura that her husband consciously projected had the opposite effect for her. Whereas some looked away, made excuses to depart, or felt a sinking sensation that pulled them down to the depths of pitiless despair the pale woman took comfort in it. She languished in the sheer luxury of being able to feel her husband behind the halls of her eyes, matriculating, thoroughly in her blood stream. She inhaled his presence in the way one might enjoy the rarest of roses.

Not that she didn't know what he was doing.

"By all means, meldanya.", the moonlit haired Echani responded thoughtfully to her husband with a touch of steel-born coquettish wit. It was her own brand that very few would be able to recognize as jest…But was she really joking? Her eyes held his with unfathomable intent while words escaped her that were almost a delicacy. Permission, dulcet and serene, to do exactly what he had suggested. "…Break them. Bring every self-important, pompous, and over-extended House to their knees if it pleases you dear husband…"

Golden eyes moved against metallic in a way that that could have been considered indecent. There was much to convey in a glance. A touch, in this partnership, this romance of the mind.

"But know that they must be allotted sufficient latitudes to rebuild."

As a phoenix rose from the ashes with new life, she had every confidence that the Sith Order could do the same. "They must be allowed to rise under their own strength, to find their own desire, but they require guidance. If they fail to walk the line we have set…Yes. Some will die."

"But for those who succeed? For those we empower? The Sith will endure, stronger, than the hollowed husk the wars of the last century have left behind. We must provide just enough rope…"

So that their people might swing, victorious, to the other side of a great chasm.

Or hang themselves trying.
​

The little one that watched them so fervently halted the more serious discussion, however. She was not an Eternal but as Srina had mentioned to Malum…It was her duty to know all the flowers blooming in her garden. Be they daisy, rose, or weed. She spun in the stoic arms of her husband when the song touched a crescendo, easily, waiting for the Acolyte to respond. Did she not know how? Or had her bravery evaporated when thrust into the harsh light of recognition?

Eventually…A small voice poked through the ether. Slipping, like raindrops through a thick tree canopy. If Srina hadn't been focused on Revna it was highly likely that she would have missed her reply among the myriad of much louder minds in assembly. <<You will find that very little is lost to my eyes...>>

That was an understatement, but the Empress pulled on the threads of the Force like a hellbound weaver. Building a bridge of communication between herself and the Acolyte was a simple enough task. Getting her to understand it so that she might communicate with her thoughts more freely was another story entirely. Revna would be able to visualize bricks being laid that marked a mental pathway her mind would be able to walk. Repeatedly, if necessary.

<<…Come to me, child mine...>>

The earnest request from a student of the Order caused Srina to break away from Darth Empyrean with a flourish of blue and gold. She inclined her head toward her beloved in a prolific, public, display of respect before her hand rose to pull one of many high-backed chairs forward. That same hand shifted to press toward his chest so that he might acquiesce to the seat she offered. "The little one has asked for instruction, meldanya. I will not deny her. Will you deny me?"

Pale primrose lips pressed into a ghostly smile. Empyrean…Well. They both knew, he would deny his lady-wife nothing. The question itself was as absurd as it was mischievously amusing.

Without looking at Revna the Empress extended her hand, expecting fully, that the young Acolyte would come to claim it. Some would regard such an action with an understandable level of hesitation. Not only because of the very real chance of losing an appendage for audacities sake but because Srina very much so willingly belonged to her husband in an old-world standard. Was his innate cruelty threaded into her just as thoroughly as their vows?

Perhaps.

The Acolyte would simply need to take their chances and react. Do her best—And survive.

*Meldanya = My Beloved

 

[Revna]

The voice of the Sith Empress slipped through Revna’s mind, clear and distinct, remarking on the Acolyte’s comment and saying that little escaped her notice. The young woman took that as both a truthful statement and a warning.

A link began to form between their minds, laid out like a brick pathway from the Empress’s side, and Revna was quick to catch on to what she was doing and do her part to help form a stronger link between them. Other voices faded out, so that the singular voice of Lady Talon came through loudest.

The little woman watched the two royals continue their dance, and she couldn’t help but feel both touched and repulsed by what she saw. The Sith Emperor was, for lack of a better term, a living corpse. He…appeared physically frail, weakened even. But she was smarter than to believe that. He wouldn’t be the Sith Emperor if he was weak. Revna caught herself wondering how he had come to be as he was now, both curious and wary of the truth. She knew she was not privy to such personal information, so she knew better than to inquire or ask. His wife on the other hand, was the perfect vision of stunning beauty combined with lethal power. Both had power; in fact, to her…they were the strongest source of power in the grand throne room, even compared to others that shared the dance floor or simply mingled about, or sat upon their own throne overlooking the throng.

It suddenly dawned on the little Acolyte that she had just asked one of the most powerful beings in this room to teach her how to dance. There was not a shred of doubt in her mind that she could be instantly killed, maimed, or tortured for her audacity. Especially since she was the lowest rank within the Order itself; they could make an example of her, and she would have deserved it. The echo of the words of her Mentor came through her mind, reminding her that some Sith don’t even regard Acolytes as Sith at all.

The voice of the Empress came into her mind again, bidding Revna to come to her, seemingly giving the little Sith permission to dance with her. It was not a request, and the young woman swallowed her sudden rush of nerves. -Yes, milady- she replied through the mental pathway that had been built between them. She watched intently as Lady Talon finished her dance with the Emperor and summoned a nearby, ornate chair to her hand for him to sit in. Revna waited, her heart racing a bit faster in her chest, until she saw the hand of the Empress extend out towards her.

She made her bed…now she had to lie in it.

Revna lifted her chin slightly and took those steps that carried her towards the awaiting royal. She sensed eyes on her from all around, and she could almost hear and feel the whispers cast her way. She was a new face, and no doubt many of these individuals had seen her come in with Darth Strosius. Even though she had only been his student for perhaps a week, give or take, in that time she had come to learn that he was not viewed with favor amongst the wider Sith Order. Details surrounding that had not been revealed to her yet, but she could sense that perhaps this disfavor was passed to her as well. Perhaps there were some at this gala who felt that she did not deserve to even grace the presence of the royals.

They would be right. She certainly didn’t deserve it. This could be a huge mistake that she was walking into. Or…it could possibly work out in her favor. She really wouldn’t know until the truth revealed itself.

Upon reaching the side of the royal, Revna gently laid her own small, almost child-sized hand, into the awaiting hand of the Empress and offered a respectful bow of her head. “Thank you for this privilege, Lady Talon.” Revna said with respect in her voice, though her eyes were wary. Unbeknownst to her, the hood of her robes - which she had positioned in such a way to try and hide the scars inflicted from a slave’s electric prong collar that encircled her neck - had slipped down to fully expose the marks of her previous life. It was truly an audacious thing: a former slave finding herself in this position, hand in hand with the Empress of the Sith.


Tags:
Srina Talon (please don't yeet me lol)
Darth Strosius (tagging you incase I do get yeeted. And because you were looking forward to this)

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Revna [
Wearing: Blue
Location:The Golden Palace, Eliad
______________________________________________________

She took in Empyrean's expression, empty of all things, but the silvery Echani knew better. Even as he disdained and loathed gatherings like this he knew that they served a purpose and that his socially bankrupt wife often approached them like storming an enemy encampment. It was a battle to be won with words and wit not a sin, not a hardship, to merely endure. More than once she had put a halt to frivolity simply because of the definitive nature of her being. She intervened. She commanded.

Srina Talon had long since ceased her existence as a soldier. In this era? She was a conqueror masquerading as Queen Consort to a Corpse King in a world where knowledge and power were the only currency they could afford to keep. Credits…Credits were meaningless little scraps without the strength and sovereignty to protect it. Eyes of blistering gold fell to the slender Acolyte with a measure of curiosity…Most, would never do what this one had done. Accept her challenge. Meet her. Any interest was masked expertly behind a veil of imperial authority…Behind the legendary ice and frost that moved like blades twisting in her veins.

When her voice echoed next through the mental space between them it was as smooth and commanding as the dark silk of the galaxy. If the young woman practiced her telepathy diligently in this manner, she would master it in no time at all. It was a pivotal skill for any Sith to have in their arsenal. Computers could be hacked, so easily by slicers, but their minds could be fortified into vaults unto and into eternity if they built the proper fortifications. <<Rise my brave little one…And fear not the eyes that judge…For their gaze is fleeting and often misplaced...>>

Revna had not found her way to this precipice by accident. Neither of them had. The threads of fate that were woven into the very fabric of the Force had seen fit to bring this introduction forward. A stolen breath, a borrowed moment, where the young could find a foothold amongst slipping sands and unstable moorings. Her words pulled from the mind of the youngling that seemed attached to Darth Strosius and into reality where they might hold weight without the consequence of crushing her. "It is not a privilege that brings you to my side…But purpose, Revna. The ground does not thank the sky when it rains…Life does not thank a sun for burning. You needn't thank me. We are, as we are."

Flesh and blood. Part of the same cycle.

Srina could not help but notice the marks that marred the flesh of her new dance partner. The scars were familiar, but it took the Empress a moment to place it. Her hand was light when it wrapped around Revna's, firm, yet not unkind. Slowly…She guided the hand she had claimed to her shoulder while holding the other. Her other hand then fell to the Acolyte's waist, taking the lead, while she offered instruction. "Keep your chin high…Nothing should ever make you feel like you need to look down. Not the mighty nor the meek…Not your scars."

"They are marks of survival. They do not diminish you; They elevate you."

On Eshan the marks that she bore would be heralded as triumphant because it was clear that she had also obtained her freedoms. It did not matter the method of her liberty—Only that she was indeed the mistress of her own fate. Srina stepped back and bade that the youngling follow her footsteps while the music played a waltz that held the beauty of creation but definitive dark tones that would appeal to the Sith present. "To dance…One must feel the beating heart of the song in your bones. It is the same with combat. To feel the heartbeat of your enemy. To know them, master them."

"Does their pulse race, does it slow, does it stop?"

Her movements were fluid. It was more than the Force…It was her upbringing. So stark and reserved as a child of the moon where no citizen was truly, ever, a civilian. They were all warriors by nature where they spoke with body language more than voices. As the music swelled, she almost gently corrected Revna's posture with a little tap here or there. A chilly word. A cold…Unfeeling glance. It was almost as if there was nothing inside the Empress at all. Nothing, until a sideways glance caught her truth.

There was emotion to be found in her. Passion. One only needed to look hard enough to see what Empyrean had been taken in by so many years ago. Beyond the barely contained threat of violence. Beyond pain and iron. Beyond darkness, despair, and pitiless destruction. A void. A frigid, breathtaking, and endless galaxy in her eyes. So very full of secrets. They flickered when she paused to straighten Revna's shoulders before falling right back into the music as if they had never stopped…

"Did you know that the Emperor was also once enslaved?"

 

[Revna]

The words of the Empress, both mental and voiced, caused Revna to tilt her head as her mind worked to understand, picking apart the words and seeing clearly what the royal was conveying to her. The young Acolyte’s eyes shifted briefly to those around them, and an expression of understanding came over her face, and made her stormy eyes harden ever so slightly.

The silver-haired Empress was right. Their views of the little woman didn’t matter; their opinions of her did not dictate who or what she was and was to become.

The spoken words of the Lady Talon made Revna contemplate further. To others, what she was doing was indeed a privilege, and there were some gathered who might be envious of the Acolyte’s boldness to approach the royal couple like this. Yet, the spoken truth that purpose had brought them together made the young woman think. It also further deepened her belief that the Force did not do things randomly, that fate and destiny were not mindless ideals.

Things happened for a reason; her entire life up until this moment was proof enough of that to Revna.

Setting aside her misgivings or wariness, the little Acolyte turned her attention to learning, for that was why she was here. She was smart as whip and learned things quickly - as her Mentor had discovered in the short time he had known her - and she followed Lady Talon’s guidance and memorized where to place her hands and feet and how to position herself for the dance. She noticed the older woman’s eyes flicker to her neck, and she knew then that the woman had noticed the scars there. Heat, even a touch of shame, colored Revna’s cheeks for a moment. She suddenly felt exposed, the weakness of her past laid bare. She thought for sure the woman would send her away…for what noble, what royalty, would want to be in the presence of a former slave?

Slaves were nothing, less than nothing, to many. Commodities, tools, items to be used and discarded when their purpose was done and over with.

There was the briefest moment of tension as Revna waited for the Empress to react. The icy woman’s words made the little Sith blink; those words simply annihilated Revna’s views of herself.

She could have said that her scars reminded her of her weakness, of a painful past, but Lady Talon made a good point: they were not marks of weakness, but of strength. Of power. Of resolve and determination to become something greater than she was before.

The tension within the young woman fled in an instant as she accepted and took to heart the words spoken by the beautiful woman guiding her through her first dancing lesson. Everything around them faded away for the moment, leaving just the two of them and the music, and the words spoken from one woman to another. Revna hadn’t had this kind of interaction since before her mother passed away all those years prior. It made this stolen moment so much sweeter for the little Acolyte.

She listened intently to every word spoken to her, the lessons imparted for the dance…both for social settings and for the battlefield. The dance of life and death, of love and hate, of peace and war. She couldn’t help but feel a smile cross over her face, her stormy blue-gray eyes dancing with wonder, with excitement, and curiosity.

Though Revna’s movements in the dance showed her lack of experience, she was quick to learn and to move with the Empress, who corrected her anytime she made a mistake…be it with a touch here and there, a frigid look, or a frosty spoken word. She seemed unfeeling, cold, and distant but now that Revna was up close and personal…she began to see snippets of something else within the wintry woman.

It took…fire…to be who she was. To be the wife to the most powerful figure in the Sith Order, the Empire, to rule alongside him, to have her own space amongst the wolves that preyed upon those weaker than themselves. No ordinary woman could be an Empress to the Sith; and Revna saw fleeting glimpses of the sheer strength and passionate drive in the silver-haired woman who guided her through her first dance.

It made her even more enchanting to the young woman who was already in awe of her.

The next words from Lady Talon caused Revna to briefly falter in a step as surprise rippled across her pale face. Her eyes glanced briefly towards the Emperor himself before she returned her gaze back to the woman before her.

“...he was?” she breathed softly in her shocked awe. Her face and eyes showed that she was processing this information, before an understanding settled over her features. Her curiosity was further piqued by this revelation, and where there had been wariness and even bold indifference, there was now respect. Revna understood that it took true strength to rise from the lowest place to the greatest among them all. The truth, the knowledge, gave Revna hope. Hope that she too could rise to her own heights, despite the lowly past she bore.


Tags:
Srina Talon
Darth Strosius

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Revna
Wearing: Blue
Location: The Golden Palace, Eliad
______________________________________________________

"Good."

The distant praise that she offered the young Acolyte for picking up on form and positioning would be allowed to linger. Were it uttered from any other mouth, any other lips, it might have been considered rude or disingenuous—But the Empress did not speak unless she meant it. She did not offer empty platitudes nor would she bolster a skill that the youngling had no talent for. It was commendation earned for the brave little one.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Srina led Revna through the waltz as she would have expected Empyrean to lead her. He was strong despite the illusion of frailty from leathery skin and the rotten grimace of a wolf skull. He beloved was the vase that held her up. That cared for her, protected her, nourished her, while his unsightliness let the rare flower she had become…Exist. Thrive. He let her gleam and glow on far more than the dance floor but that was the same opportunity she provided Revna. To carry her through the complicated steps she did not know—But not intrinsically overshadow her more than necessary.

Revna was a slave, inferior, no longer.

Perhaps the thought had not occurred to her while she nursed old wounds and hid her scars from sight. The mental bridge Srina had formed between herself and the young one for educational purposes let her glimpse what the blue-eyed apprentice tried to hide. The color that marred her cheeks and the shame that plagued her expression. The shock that echoed when Srina challenged her point of view with simple and certain undeniable truths.

The Echani remained silent for a moment to let Revna come to her own conclusions. There were some things that required patience regardless the voice that spoke it. Her hand shifted from Revna's waist to brush her cheek for one moment with the back of her knuckles. Enough to get her attention and draw her eyes back up. Equal, with her own. She would not let her look down. <<…Did you think your past made you unworthy of greatness?>>

<<Do your utmost not to shun your marks, little one. Wear them as your armor against those who might question your resolve. Your past does not define you, nor, does it bind you. The only walls that can contain you are those of your own making. I assure you…>>

"You are worthy."

Her hand returned to the waist of the dark-haired woman as if the moment had never been. Proper—Textbook. She could see why the cantankerous Darth Strosius had chosen her to learn from his prowess. She was bright and a quick study. Srina had little doubt that given a little time and instruction that would learn to hold her own in the great game. Afterall, Srina was often considered to be incorrect in societal situations. She missed queues so badly that she hadn't realized Darth Empyrean was courting her all those years ago until an untimely kiss started to make her wonder.

After all…Who could ever love the beast the Dread Queen had become?

Pretty, but a beast all the same.

The dance continued, each step and turn a lesson in poise and power. Srina's corrections were precise and swift, like the strike of a viper—cold yet essential. Her demeanor may have seemed distant, but each touch, each glacial stare, was calculated to refine Revna's raw potential into the beginnings of lethal elegance. It was there. Just beneath the surface. Right, there. She could sense it in the way that tree roots could spread beneath the earth for miles. Hidden, but strong.

It was a similar sensation that she noted when she encountered Darth Malum of House Marr in the last few months. Even though, despite her efforts, he still seemed to think she wanted his head on a platter. It was a silly notion to Srina because if she wanted him dead…He would be. That was often easier than taking any sort of responsibility or interest in the progress and ascension of others.

If they were dead? The problem was gone.

Alive? They persisted. There was a chance that they might rise from the muck and present themselves as leaders that would bring carry their Order into the future. It was more worth any momentary irritation. That was what Srina was often looking toward. Legacy—The future.

As the music swirled around them—Srina's eyes briefly met the iron orbs of the Emperor who was still seated. Watching them with grave intent that would have borderline disconcerted even the strongest of souls. Srina took comfort in his darkness. In his shadow and volcanic ire. She had a feeling that Revna would not. There was a silent exchange, a shared understanding, assuring that she would not ruin the image he had created. He was fearsome no matter the context. Turning back to Revna, Srina's expression remained unreadable, yet her strangely cold voice carried an undertone of something rare…Something few seemed to acknowledge.

The notion that her husband had once been as near-human and as mortal as the rest of them.

"Yes. He was.", she affirmed, before lifting her arm so that Revna could twirl beneath it. Her explanation was interrupted with a need for instruction. "Just once now…Then back to me. Put your weight on the balls of you toes…I will not drop you."

"There is a reason that Eternalists oppose slavery. Did you not wonder?"

Many were exceedingly confused by the stance the Emperor took. But, it was an abolishment that most would not hear a word of. Too old in its practice. "He was…", her tone trailed off, almost fond, while memory surfaced. "Very outspoken and never learned to hold his tongue. He enjoyed outwitting them when he couldn't defeat his masters through physical prowess alone…He...Endured."

She pressed an image into Revna's mind of a man that held similar coloring to her own. A distant expression with golden eyes, a smug expression, and white hair. It was a stark difference to the blood red hair and mechanical eyes he had now. He was, for lack of a better term, beautiful regardless the multitude of scars both internal and external. "I met him as a self-made entrepreneur, a banker...I was a warrior from a non-titled family...We all grow Revna. We all become. It just takes time."

As the lesson in dance neared its end, Srina paused, her gaze penetrating, assessing Revna's reaction to her words. Around them, the court watched, some with envy, others with newfound respect and others with pure and blatant anger. Of course, there was a touch of curiosity. Who was the person that had garnered such attention from the imperial body without so much as lifting a finger? Were heads going to roll? Would Srina punish her for her audacity? So many whispers. But as Srina had warned Revna to ignore the peanut gallery…Their eyes slid away from her like rain falling from the sky.

They were nothing.

"You will remember that, won't you?"

 

[Darth Strosius]

​

Equipment: Robes
Tags: Revna / Srina Talon

The refreshments at this venue were thankfully rather tasteful, given that the last thing anyone wanted as a Sith Lord getting blackout drunk and causing a ruckus. Darth Strosius swirled a cocktail in his hand for a moment before lifting up the straw and fitting into a small slot beneath his mask so that he could partake of its nectar. Sweet yet with just enough of a kick to remind him of what alcohol should feel like. Just the way he liked it. "Thank you friend." He offered the servant, still holding up a tray of drinks, a small nod as he tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

It obviously wasn't the alcohol, he wished he could still feel some effect of it in truth, but something was most certainly hanging over his head. Metaphorically speaking anyway. Just a general bad feeling that he was content to chalk up to simply being in the presence of his current and future enemies. Or so he would have been if the servant's gaze hadn't wandered from him to instead stare in surprise at something behind him.

With a sigh the masked man turned his head and felt his entire body freeze at the sight before him. At the sight of Revna in the clutches of Srina Talon. Before he knew it a shattering sound greeted his ears and pulled him from his stupor, a glance at his hand confirming that he had indeed crushed the glass and its sweet contents in his hand. The servant cast him a wary gaze as the Sith shook the shards out of his gloved hand before reaching over and simply plucking the bottle from the tray.

He had half a mind to throw it at the so called 'Sith Empress' but stopped himself short of doing so, knowing what bloody reprisal would erupt given that he'd be alone in such a fight due to the other Sith that were here to have a bowing contest to Empyrean. A long lecture about not interacting with their enemies was certainly in order for his Acolyte, a decision he made before tilting his head back as he raised the bottle to the open slit and began to down it. It was moments like these when he really wished that it would actually dull his senses. A wish that would never come true, unfortunately.

 

[Revna]

The young woman knew that the Empress had picked up on the shame that had draped over her, not to mention it wasn’t hard to miss the bright shade of red that stained her pale cheeks. A gentle touch against her cheek brought her eyes back to that of the Empress, who’s voice echoed through Revna’s mind thanks to the telepathic link they shared in the moment. The words of Lady Talon were a challenge to the younger woman; a push for her to see herself in a different light.

Truthfully, they echoed some of what her Mentor had spoken over her since her arrival to his settlement. But it meant something different coming from another woman. It made the truth sink in even further for Revna.

The Empress’s statement that the young Acolyte was worthy struck her deeper than she could have imagined. She could feel her perception shifting, changing. She knew she was going to be leaving this place a different person than when she walked in, stronger than she had been before…if only in her perception of herself.

A fateful encounter indeed.

Lady Talon’s hand returned to Revna’s waist and they continued onward with the dance, as if that brief moment had never occurred. But it was seared into the little woman’s memories, for all time.

The young Acolyte noticed when the Empress’s gaze shifted to look upon that of the Emperor, and the young woman purposefully did not look in his direction. She knew in her heart that she was safe while in the hands of the Empress, but she did not want to test or provoke…not here, anyway. And not right now. She was enjoying this precious moment, and she was not going to ruin it for herself.

Much to Revna’s surprise, the wintry woman affirmed her shocked statement about the truth of the Emperor’s previous slave status, before guiding Revna into an elegant twirl that allowed the younger woman to show off a bit of her grace and flexibility. A smile of joy spread across her cheeks as her stormy eyes danced with mirth.

She was enjoying herself immensely, and she felt no more shame nor regret for having taken that bold step to meet the Empress here. Had she cowed away, she would never have had this opportunity.

The unmistakable sound of shattering glass caught Revna’s attention and her eyes snapped in the direction of the sound, only for her to see the familiar masked and robed presence of her Mentor. She was still learning him, still getting used to him, but she could tell that he was…displeased…with what he was seeing: he seemed to have shattered the delicate cocktail glass in a flex of his fist. Her attention was pulled away from him around the time he reached for the whole bottle of alcohol on a nearby servant’s serving platter, and the Acolyte returned her focus to the Empress.

She would deal with her Mentor later, for she already knew he was going to have some choice words to say to her. For now, she would enjoy this time, and she wouldn’t let him take this from her.

The statement from the Empress about the Eternalists opposing slavery made the cogs in Revna’s mind turn.

“...I am not too familiar with Eternalist viewpoints, my Lady. I...truthfully didn't even know about the Sith Empire or the Sith Order until a standard week ago.” Revna replied. “I was not even aware that it opposes slavery. Though it makes me happy to hear that.”

She held her silence as the older woman continued, sharing more about the Emperor with her younger dancing partner. Her statements brought a small, knowing smile to Revna’s face. She too was a bit outspoken, and many of her scars on her body were there because she didn’t know how to control her tongue, and had been punished for it. She had endured, survived, and fought back…and all her suffering had been rewarded with an opportunity to free herself - one which she took for herself.

She still didn’t regret or feel remorse for killing her former master. She’d do it again and again if given the opportunity.

Revna listened quietly as Lady Talon shared more of the Emperor’s story with her; how she had met the man, and impressed an image into the younger woman’s mind of a figure who looked drastically different from the corpse-man who sat a short distance away from them. A frown creased the Acolyte’s brow; how had he gone from being whole…to this?

“Growth is necessary. Without it…we would wither and die.” Revna replied as she considered the other woman’s words to her. “Change is difficult…suffering is painful…but they are necessary tools to either bring forth strength and resolve, or lay low those who cannot withstand the fire.”

She smiled at the Empress, a glint of understanding in her stormy eyes. “I will remember everything you’ve said to me, my Lady. You are wise, and I listen to those who are wise.”


Tags:
Srina Talon
Darth Strosius

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Revna | Darth Strosius
Wearing: Blue
Location: The Golden Palace, Eliad
______________________________________________________

The Dread Empress held a unique quality in being able to pay complete attention to the apprentice in her hold while simultaneously surveying their surroundings with serene detachment. Her icy-façade never wavered, even, as the sound of breaking glass became audible through the crowd. She was a warrior first and foremost, while the crown, came much later in the form of an unwanted burden. No one could sneak up on her. Surprise her. It was almost as if she had eyes in the back of her head.

Thus…Tracing lines of curiosity, jealousy, and anger that bordered on rage troubled her little more than a match of sabacc or chess. She was excellent, at both.

Hawkish golden orbs, quiet, and almost cruel with their intensity returned to Revna. There was no hostility in her touch but it seemed that the expression of the Empress rarely changed from anything other than emptiness or fierce intent. She hated seeing wasted potential. She hated the loss to the future when one of their young was deprived all they needed to surpass their Masters. It was no longer a game of two, nor, was it a power play for one to behold. The Jedi far outnumbered them.

The Order could ill-afford to be divided.

Srina released the hand of the dark-haired young woman and held her own in the air so that their palms would touch. Her other arm came to formally rest behind her back while she nodded that Revna do the same. From there they took measures steps in a circular pattern before the pale moon-daughter dropped that hand and raised the other—Repeating the process. "The Sith…They love tradition. This dance is likely centuries old…You will see it at many gatherings. Many, events."

"It would serve you well to learn sword, force, and tradition. As beautiful and alluring as strength can be…In a world often dominated by powerful men…It is not enough. We must be all that they are and more. The carrot and the stick. The sword and shield. Life and Death. Everything."

She witnessed the subtle growth of Revna with a quiet satisfaction. Most…Wouldn't notice a difference. Srina did. She saw things, so well, so very well that often her children wished she wouldn't. She always knew what was wrong without being told or knew what to say…When they didn't even realize that it needed to be said. With so much power eking from the Sith they often forgot that beneath their monstrous ambitions, their declarations of hate, their treasonous, blasphemous endeavors…

They were still individuals. Still, their own being.

When the song finally ended Srina would guide the young woman into that too. The Empress took the more masculine lead and bowed respectfully, before, coaxing Revna to either do the same or a polite curtsey. Most Sith wouldn't be bothered but Srina felt she ought to know both for her own comfort. More gentle instruction from a paradox of a creature where an attentive mentor could be found beneath the shell of a ruthless leader.

Her compassion it seemed was just as calculated as her cruelty.

In Revna, she saw not just another nameless, faceless disciple, but a reflection of potential that required cultivation. Her philosophy extended beyond Eternalism, the Kainites, or the Tsis'Kaar, but to things that encompassed them all. Every member of the Order was a crucial part of it. From the highest born to the lowest of the low…Everyone held a purpose. "Interesting...You are so new to our world. But, not so new that you have no fear of the Emperor."

"The reason for the opposition of slavery may not please you…", she owned up, after a moment. Past the existence of her children…Srina never lied.

It was her largest asset and biggest failure. She never, ever lied and most knew it. It was part of the reason Carnifex offered her his trust after years of animosity with her Master. It was the reason so many factions had not come to blows.

"It is not out of a misplaced sense of morality but because it recognizes potential in even the strangest of forms. Potential, that is squandered when one is shackled, either by physical bonds or by the fetters of ignorance. Do not let me fool you…I am as moral as a hurricane."

Empty.

Save—The force of her gale. That was the passion Revna saw beneath a frozen exterior. Beyond the ice so cold that it burned with an indomitable will to preserve her own, come what may. Her eyes remained unreadable for a moment but there were flickers of something. Just, a glimpse. "Just think about it for a moment…in less than a lifetime…from slave to sovereign—It sounds ludicrous—But…Here we are."

Srina finally released Revna from her impromptu lesson and reached out to settle wayward strands of auburn hair. Almost as if they had known each other…Far longer. There was care in it. From a mother to a child…To a child who could not stay. "Suffering can be an equalizer when utilized with great precision…But be mindful not to lose yourself in the flame."

A warning if there ever was one. As if…Srina knew something Revna did not.

"Should you find yourself on Jutrand…You will find my doors open to you.", her words lingered with the remaining bars of a haunting melody. Burnished eyes of corrupted Sith yellow made their way toward the shrouded form of the one who had so unceremoniously decided to crush fine glassware. "Now…Return to your Master, little one. Before he scolds us both."

Something dark in her tone would tell Revna that the Empress might have deeply enjoyed that conversation but, her receding form would keep the apprentice from knowing that truth. Though…The silvery woman did pause on her way back to the seated Emperor. Her hand was just meeting his shoulder while drawing his iron eyes back into her…Swallowing his rage and general malcontent as if it were the sweetest elixir. Their proximity to one another was magnetic in every sense of the word.

"…Oh…And Revna…"

Her eyes flickered away from her husband.

"Thank you for the dance."

 

[Revna]

Perhaps most would have squirmed under the icy, sharp stare the Empress leveled on Revna…but the young woman found a sense of comfort in it.

In a way, it reminded her of how her own mother had treated her as a child. Elara hadn’t been cruel, but she had been stern and sharp. She had to be, in order to keep her defiant and wilful daughter in line, and safe, from their masters and their cruelties. For a moment, Revna found herself missing her mother dearly; a hollow pain of loss echoed through her as she recalled faint memories.

Revna’s attention was brought back to the royal who held her in had a heartbeat later, and followed the other woman’s lead, placing her palm against that of Lady Talon and her other hand at the small of her back, mirroring the Empress’s own actions to the best of her capabilities. She would hesitate, only for the briefest of moments, as her mind processed what was going on before falling in step and moving through the motions. As they did so, the silver-haired woman shared more wisdom with young Revna, who drank it all in as if she was dying of thirst.

The Sword, the Force, and Tradition. These were things that the little Acolyte knew she could develop and grow in, for the golden-eyed woman before her was right: strength wasn’t everything.

“Traditions fascinate me. As does the Force. Thanks to my Mentor…I’ve learned more about my abilities and gifts over the last week or so than I have my entire life. I’m always eager to learn more, absorb more. Maybe…too much so.”

Revna was hungry to learn everything she could about…well, everything. Combat, the Force, the Sith, the Galaxy, the Jedi…She didn’t want to remain ignorant. The more knowledge and awareness she had, the better…right?

The song came to its conclusion and the Empress guided the young woman through the motions, offering Revna a bow and indicating that she should respond in kind, to which she did. Strangely enough, though the room was crowded and filled with people of various strength and power and influence, Revna hardly noticed them anymore. Their opinions of her didn’t matter; their views of her didn’t matter. Their feelings towards her in the moment rolled off of her back. She took hold of her own growing confidence and stepped into it.

Lady Talon seemed perhaps mildly surprised by Revna’s admittance of her being new to the Order, and spoke her remarks on the matter. The young woman’s eyes shifted briefly again in the direction of the seated Emperor before returning to the woman before her as she shared that perhaps the Acolyte would not be pleased to know the reason behind why slavery was opposed. It certainly captured her interest and her stormy eyes glinted with further curiosity…which was satisfied as the Empress continued and spoke the truth of the matter to her.

And perhaps the strangest part was that Revna found herself understanding and even to a degree, agreeing with the statement.

“I feel that…everyone deserves a chance to realize and perhaps fulfill their potential. I agree with you…those that are shackled can’t really rise up into that potential…be it physical chains, or mental ones or anything else. They can be given the opportunity to do something with their life…but beyond that it is on the individual to rise or fall.”

She paused for a moment, pursing her lips in thought, before speaking again. “For example…if I freed a group of slaves with my Mentor, and I later found out that they squandered their freedom and ended up back in chains…I would leave them there. We gave them the chance to rise, and they threw it away. Now whatever befalls them is on their head alone. Beyond that point I have no pity, no remorse, for what happens to them. As I would expect none in return if I did the same.”

She smiled at the statement made, from slave to sovereign, indeed. It was crazy to believe…if Revna wasn’t seeing the proof with her very own eyes.

It gave her the hope that anything she set her mind to, could be accomplished.

The time of their dance was quickly coming to an end; Lady Talon paused and moved some strands of Revna’s hair in an almost motherly fashion that further seemed to ease the tensions from the young Sith. Though this woman held power beyond the Acolyte's comprehension, even if it wasn’t revealed, she knew that she was safe here…if the Empress had wanted to harm her or punish her or even kill her, she would have done so by now.

The silver-haired Lady responded to Revna’s statement about suffering, and seemed to give her a warning about not losing herself to the flame. It seemed a bit…cryptic…to the young woman, but she stored the information away in her mind for later recall and thought.

The dance came to its inevitable end, and the Acolyte was rather surprised to receive an open invitation to meet with the Empress, should she find herself on Jutrand, and this brought a smile to her pale face, even as the royal bid her to return to the brooding form of her Mentor. There was a glint of mirth in Revna’s eyes at the Lady’s comment about him scolding them both: the idea of seeing him attempt to scold the Empress was an entertaining one in her mind.

"I would be more than happy to take you up on that offer, whenever I find myself in Jutrand."

The young woman was released and she stepped away, feeling light on her feet. She caught the gaze of the royal Lady as she returned to the seated Emperor, hearing her name called, and her smile widened briefly.

“My pleasure, Lady Talon. And thank you.”

Sighing deeply, she turned and headed towards the familiar robed and masked form of her Mentor. She had a feeling he would have a stern conversation with her later on. As she approached him, she leveled a steady gaze at the visor of his mask, a hard stare that almost challenged him to say something then and there.

He'd find that his little Acolyte would have words of her own for him in return.

Besides attaining her freedom, and finding her way to his mentorship…that dance with the Empress had been one of the greatest moments of her life, and no one was going to take that from her.


Tags: Srina Talon // Darth Strosius