Faction Remember to Adrian! | The Sith Empire

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Passion, Tower Vandiir, Kaas City
Attire: Polyweave Dress | Shield talisman | Empyrean gland
Tag: Open

The Lady of the Tower; Ingrid felt the whole place infinitely empty and deserted. Everyone stepped out of her way as she walked down the halls, only nodding silently at her. Adrian's sithspawn and his employees were the only ones who spoke to her. Of course, she received many condolences, but they weren’t really used. She was still in shock, the Force-bond was already much tighter between the two of them than they would have imagined.

Adrian was one of the few people she told why she wanted a big family, why she reacted so much on PL when the man wanted to be nice. Thus, that she lost the other meaning of her life beside Tubrok, she waited no longer. Now that she was here on Dromund Kaas, the red-haired woman visited the Globex, Adrian’s company and spoke to the executives who were kind with her, after all, they knew whose widow she was. Two children, one from Adrian, one from Tubrok. She knew that AMCO wouldn't mind either, it just hurt her that the man couldn't be with her anymore.

She had been trying to bring the beloved man back to life in the last few days, she already had the power to do so, but Ingrid had to realize that she was incapable, the man's soul was shattered. She has to find and put it together to do the ritual. Tubrok had also arrived a few days ago, but he was not able to comfort the woman either, he could only watch her sufferings. No matter how hard it was, she knew she had to do something, it was her responsibility and her job. She asked Adrian's assistant to organize a large-scale party and commemoration at the Passion in Adrian's honour. That was very fit of her husband.

She needed all of her strength to be able to take it upon herself and hide her pain, to suppress it so that as few people as possible could see or feel it. After all, she was a L’lerim, she couldn’t show anything like that. The woman was the first to arrive at the Passion. Only the waiters and staff were here yet. She didn't know if she would have enough strength to make it through this day. She knew she had to, but from that she still wanted to go back to their common suite with Adrian and cry while squeezing one of the man's clothes to smell the Sith Lord’s scent or using one of the memory crystals to feel him too.

But she couldn't do it now, only after the event. And here everything was ready for the event to begin, a party worthy of the late Adrian Terassi Vandiir…

 

[Onrai]

“I’m sorry.”

A familiar voice would pipe up as the form of Vanessa Vantai steadily manifested before Ingrid L'lerim , her hair down from the insufferably complicated style her new form had been primarily imbued with and her attire seemingly nothing more than a simple pair of grey Sith robes. It was a sign Vanessa was at least attempting to visibly show signs of mourning, a proffering of sympathy to the otherwise cold and emotionless woman.

Truthfully, though, her care was minimal.

The departed AMCO had been above her station within the Triumvirate as a piece of the hierarchy of the Dark Council. He had been of no help during the attempt to identify the imposter that was Jacen Nimdok when he came to break her onetime apprentice out, nor had his constructs. Her other minimal interactions with the Sith had included the Ball, wherein his sole positive note was interest in hermost prodigious of constructs, that being Dea herself. In contrast to some of her other peers, such as Darth Voracitos , Ashin Cardé Varanin , or even Ingrid herself, there had been no bridges built, no relationships for the betterment of one or both parties involved in question. It had not been as antagonistic as she had once been with the duo of Shorn and Cavill, but much had been wasted and not enough gained to compensate.

Still, the least she could do was shed her crocodile tears for Ingrid’s sake, her personal views locked so deeply within she was sure not even a goddess could pry her way into the thoughts, so deeply were they contained within her.

 

[Ty Sibo]

Ty would Send a holo message to the Empress. while he made his way to the ball. Dressing up as best as he could manage in the process. "My lord You have my condolences In this dark time, Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, but love leaves a memory no one can steal. I've Made you something for when you wish for revenge took me a few days searching the neather to get the last piece but I've made you a Broadsaber set to accept your late husband's soul shard this way when you do get your revenge you both can have it together."

Before Ty left the Elysium in his outfit he Flashed the saber for The empress to see before returning it to a nice cushioned box as he cut the communications to make his way to the Ball.

Adrian Broadsaber

 

[Tarish Galland]

A party for a dead man. Attended by a former dead man. Seemed like a sith thing alright.

Amber eyes rolled over the interior, watched silently as, well, the grave. There were both smiles and mournful murmurs already. Something he had not been a part of for some others. Thoughts wandered to what had taken the man, a ponderous thing death was. His own demise had been rather, consuming. A small power plant explosion, a little bit of burning sprinkled in.

He had gone out with a bang certainly.

And he wasn't about to let the wake, or whatever this was going to be called, be untouched by his presence. He wasn't here to argue, cause trouble, or even crack jokes. Unless given the opportunity. Even being brought back hadn't quite burnt out the heart that still beat inside of him. Didn't quell the pain of losing someone and knowing what that felt like. Of being alone in the cold void, not knowing what was missing. Or what was happening.

Even in silence, he was offering his support to Ingrid L'lerim by his presence. He had little else to give besides that. The soft firelight glow of his scar was stark against the grey robes he wore. Having nothing else that would be proper for the moment, he had shrugged and decided simplicity was the best route for such an event. Wearing armor to a party seemed like a poor choice, and he wasn't going to make his presence known for being disruptive in that way.

That seemed like a quick way to get his ticket punched for a second round with death.

 

[Inanna Harth]

“Boo!”

Alone in her apartment, Inanna Hoole screamed and jumped in her seat. The holovid remote in her hand went flying; she managed to grab it with telekinesis before it could collide with anything. “What the—“ she blurted out, then broke off as she turned to face the one who had startled her. “...oh hell no.”

The image of the late AMCO was being broadcast on her holoscreen as part of the memorial services today… and what appeared to be Adrian in the flesh stood behind the couch, leering at her. It was all there, perfectly replicated—the swirly 90s haircut, the bespoke rainbow polyweave suit, the oh-so-punchable face. He smirked down at her, his hands on his hips.

“Hello, Ms. Hoole.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” she muttered. This wasn’t the real Adrian, of course. It was just Jacen Nimdok pretending to be him. Again.

“Yes! Isn’t it great? Aren’t you pleased?”

“Uh, well, I don’t really care either way…” She watched as “Adrian” circled around and flopped down in a chair, putting his feet up and his arms behind his head. “I imagine you’re pretty happy about it, though.”

“An end to Shrouds chasing me down and trying to eat my soul? And end to mad Doppelgangers attempting to kill my family? Oh yes. Ding dong, the witch is dead.” His smirk morphed into an exuberant, toothy grin, a goofy expression that Adrian had probably never worn in his life. “Or sorcerer, whatever. Either way, he’s very very dead. In fact, I hear his soul shattered in the Crystal Cave at Dantooine, making it utterly impossible to recover.”

“Yeah, great. Now that he’s gone for good, I officially don’t have anyone left who might cure me,” Inanna grumbled. “At least, no one who won’t turn me into a horrific monster as a bonus.”

“I have great news, then!” Not-Adrian sat up. “There’s another way.”

“Does it involve me drinking his alchemized roofie juice?”

His smile faltered.

“Because I’m pretty sure Passion’s Embrace wouldn’t work. Yeah, Sith poison can be cured by a profound emotional shock, but I somehow doubt that anyone has ever stopped in the middle of a dramatic, earth-shattering moment to bottle those feelings. Even if they tried to get it after the moment had passed, it wouldn’t be potent enough.” She gestured to the holoscreen, where footage of Tower Vandiir was playing. "Plus, I'd rather not have to go back there again. That place holds nothing but bad memories. Hell, for all I know he may have banned me for life."

Not-Adrian sighed. “Don’t worry, that was just the backup plan. What I have in mind is much better.”

“Gee, I sure hope so.”

“I have an acquaintance who recently underwent a ritual cleansing,” he explained. “The Light was used to purify him. It should work to counteract the poison as well.”

Inanna quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds promising. How would I go about performing this ritual?”

“We pay him a visit and he’ll replicate the ritual for you. It should be easy, with minimal complications. It certainly won’t turn you into a different being—you’ll simply be wiped clean as far as the Force goes. Think of it as a reboot.”

“Or a baptism.”

“Or a baptism,” he agreed. Gesturing to himself, he added, “So you see, Adrian Vandiir has been of some use to you after all in this matter. And of course, I can also fulfill your other request of him.”

Her brow furrowed. “What ‘other request’?”

He continued to stare at her, his smirk deepening, until she finally got it.

“... Oh, come on! That was a joke! And I never said it would be me—I said you could make a lot of money by pretending to be him, especially with women!”

“Well, not anymore—I should think most women would find the idea of sleeping with a dead man pretty off-putting, even if it was the Galactic Ladies' Man Adrian Vandiir.” He smiled. “But I did manage to make money off pretending to be him in another way, remember? The producers of The Totally Real Adventures of Auteme pay their actors most handsomely.”

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Kaalia and Adrian had never been friends, but it hadn't prevented the woman from feeling just a little empty when she had learned of her fellow Sith's death. Her mind cast back to the time where a hutt callously abducted Ishana Pavanos and he had been of great help in taking out many of the henchmen that so foolishly tried to keep the Sith lady from freeing her wife. Even though she outranked Adrian at the time and her request for his help was more of an order than anything, he had been more than happy to help, even if it was only to see the end of another hutt's life.

Though Kaalia lived a busy life, she had always meant to return the favor one day. Now she regretted putting that idea on the sidelines. Though her visit to this party in Adrian's memory was going to be a short one, she hoped that what remained of his soul would see it as at least somewhat of a repayment. She supposed a more 'traditional' memorial wasn't very fitting for someone the likes of Adrian. This, though? This definitely did.

A glass of wine in hand, a quiet toast to an ally. Gone, but his legacy remained.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Passion, Tower Vandiir, Kaas City
Attire: Polyweave Dress | Shield talisman | Empyrean gland
Tag: Open

Many came to the party; There are not many friends among the Sith, but rather just committed, temporary allies, or even enemies. That’s why she tried to prepare for the fact that there may be people here who were happy about her husband’s death. She knew that there were those who would not and some who hoped to benefit from it. Her emotions were clear, she really mourned, she really suffered and it hurt her. Although, fortunately, others could not feel much of these. The emptiness was probably higher than the pain. She felt like a dead, empty frame. Her soul longed for the Netherworld to be with AMCO .

Her husband was her greatest connection to the Sith Empire, she was actually here so many times because of her and not just arranging things through a holocall. So far she felt relevant, now an outsider. Ingrid couldn't find her place. First Onrai came over to express her regret. The red-haired woman didn't believe a word of the Sith Lord. Maybe she was the one who won the most with Adrian’s death.

”Thank you!” She said, her voice not only emotionless this time, but also pale, soulless.

She recognized another person in the crowd, Kaalia Pavanos , she was also there when Darth Carnifex resigned from the Emperor's title and her daughter became the new Empress and Darth Prazutis became the Dark Lord of the Sith. That's when she got a message from Ty Sibo . She was surprised that the man was here, as he also worked in the Eternal Empire and gained more and more influence there recently, mostly with his companies.

She felt dizzy for a moment at the man's words, a piece of Adrian's soul? The news was as if an icy blade had been stabbed into her heart. It was endlessly painful and hopeful at the same time. She couldn't speak, just nodded to the man before he cut the communication.

~ Adrian… ~ she thought with a constrained heart.

 

[Lirka Ka]

It was a rare thing for Lirka to leave her hovel, the Sephi had all but entirely left the affairs of the Empire for her own personal war in the Sumitra Sector. Her mind had grown tired and merciless from the ceaseless shadow wars and conquests as her birthright to the Sector was denied again and again. But for this? She had deemed it worthy enough to return, Adrian had been a valuable tool during her "service" to the Empire, his mind had assisted greatly in her rebirth, and for that she was thankful.

But in equal measures, his death pleased her. He was Sith, cultist scum. He could not be trusted, even with his gracious assistance. The great and dark secrets of Lirka's form died with him, and it filled her with a shudder of grim ecstasy to consider. The Dark claimed all, and even those who wished to play the role of Gods would not be spared from her all-consuming Patriarch.

While others consoled and some mourned, Lirka did no such thing. Her presence was enough of a respect paid, her armored form as dark as it was resplendent: for in the dark metal plate that had become infamous enough in the Empire, a broken crown of gold and encrusted with precious gems had been molded and forged into her wicked helmet: a so-called Empress needed to be gaudy enough. But she voiced her "respects", a crude garble from her helm in the Sephi's native tongue.

"O cali maesaer ti shaer, telor. Pas tas o."

Crude, and heartless as ever. She remained a silent sentinel among the crowd now, half disgusted by the Sith around her now.

 

[Vaylin]

With her newly appointed duties, it had become a much rarer occasion for Vaylin to spend time outside of her work. Be it with the Valkyries, or hunting across the galaxy in pursuit of the Sith Empress’ enemies.

For AMCO however? She’d make an easy exception.

She hadn’t gotten to know him too well, not enough to have called the man a friend. They had been acquaintances, associates. Working towards the future of the Empire they both served, and at times more personal endeavours. The strongest memory was of their venture into the Netherworld, and watching how a mind like Adrian’s looked to unravel it.

Vaylin knew she would’ve felt a pang of sadness upon hearing of the man’s death. But there was very little the Zabrak could feel these days. Outside of the ever burning hatred for a certain Corellian.

She strode through the nightclub, clearly not dressed to stay, but her intent was clear. Vaylin made a beeline towards where Ingrid L'lerim was. Although, she paused in her trek when she caught sight of Kaalia Pavanos . A memory flashed before her, of the Founders’ armour that now stood displayed in her office. The Zabrak smiled, giving her a respectful nod from afar. Vaylin had much to say to the redhead, but she’d have to catch up with her another time.

“Lady L’lerim?” Eventually she managed to make her way to where she resided in the nightclub. Vaylin had debated for a while on the way here, how to address the Eternal Empress. Ultimately, she wasn’t here to speak to an Empress, but to someone who had lost her dearly beloved.

“Unfortunately I can’t stay for long, but I still wanted to personally offer my condolences for the loss of Lord Vandiir.” The way Vaylin spoke made it clear she was trying to show emotion, but it just wasn’t there. A trained eye could see it, and despite the lack of it her words were sincere. “I only ever got to speak with him directly a handful of times over the years, but he had a brilliant, creative mind. One that will be sorely missed.” She waited until Ingrid spoke, before bowing her head and turning to depart.

Only to stop before she left the redhead’s view completely.

“I once owed Adrian a debt, for helping me recuperate after escaping Mygeeto.” Vaylin turned her head, glancing back at Ingrid. “Should you ever need something, you only have to call.”