Faction Remembrance

[Mercy]

Ishida Ashina

All this remembrance nonsense was a nuisance.

The streets crowded, it was almost impossible to slip through for a small person, while Mercy was by no means a little creature. Instead she left a path of disgruntled and annoyed individuals in her wake as she demolished a way forward. By sheer grit, tenacity and using her bulk generously. It was only fair to use the gifts given to you through genetics and hard labor.

One good thing?

The food was free.

She had little freight with some dead Jedi or Alliance soldiers. But she'd raise a cup if it meant free sandwiches. This is what Mercy was doing- going from tent to tent, sampling the wares so to speak, and then moving onto the next one.

As Ishida walked by the table? Mercy stepped backwards without looking.

This brought them in direction collision. Ishida would walk directly into Mercy and meet a sentient slab of meat, muscle and grit. Mercy barely noticed. Something touched her from the left and Mercy looked to the side.

"Oh." Nothing. Mercy's gaze tracked down... and down... and down. "You okay there, kid?" Not realizing they were most likely close in age.

"Mah bad." She was feeling generous after so much good free food. "Been busy trying out these finger crab sandwiches. Ya want sum?" One big plate was pushed into Ish's face or in the general vicinity of it anyway. "They real good." Oh yeah, if you knew Mercy? You'd know she was in a GREAT mood, because she never offered anything to share for free.

Just stellar.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

THE DAUGHTER OF DUTY
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT
Mercy | CLOSED

​

Ishida's first focus was to make sure she didn't have a mishap with her tea. While it was by no means scalding, any spill would have been really annoying. She jerked her arm out to put space between herself and it, and somehow still avoid making another accidental bump with the mountain.

A literal mountain. How had she not seen such an obstacle?

"I wasn't paying attention."

Maybe she thought it was a pillar. Or a statue.

"I'm fine." She responded quickly, tersely.

She caught herself, and forced herself to do better. "You fine?"

The mountain seemed fine.

While Mercy recovered, Ishida was forced to stumble and brace and make sure there was no spillage. As soon as she was poised, there was something seafoody smelling really close to her face. Every personal space alarm was going off.

That, and another alarm. One more sensitive to the nuances of The Force.

"No, thank you." She took a step back to put distance between herself and the smell, gently lifting her free hand to flatten as if she were signalling the platter to stop. "I'm not hungry. You enjoy them." The woman was a goliath. She looked like she needed a thousand finger sandwiches just to exist and burn basic calories.

Corruption seemed to crawl around the woman's presence, and Ishida's scowl that had originally been from the crab smell, deepened. Was that the darkside seeping off the mountain?

Ishida tensed.

“Crab is a.. peculiar flavour to choose for a crowd pleaser.”

---

 

[Osarla Ridor]

GENERAL RIDOR
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
CORUSCANT | SENATE PLAZA | FIELD OF HEROES
Sion Lorray

Weathering would be the first step. Once he was able to endure the noise and volume, he could work on refining it. Learning from it, somehow using it to an advantage.

Osarla was like a blunt object when ti came to emotional manipulation, or emotional intelligence, but she had to believe there was some benefit for him somewhere with all this emotional stuff. There had to be! But to find it, she'd have to find another master to help at some point.

For now, she'd have to do. And help where she could. Which started with herself. As much as she didn't like to be corrected — a difficult lesson she'd struggled with relentlessly as a Padawan and young knight — Osarla shoved away her flinch. Instead, she cleared her throat and kept her eyes forward as the Chancellor left the podium and disappeared to wander through the statues.

"I would imagine that someone who is deeply connected with the way people are feeling would have a place to suggest public rituals."

To give him more opportunity to find merit in his thoughts, she turned her head to look at him.

"Why do you think five minutes of silence would be more appropriate?"

 

[Kirie]

Senate Plaza
Open to interaction
ATTN: Corazona von Ascania | Jasper Kai'el

-

​

"I do my best." She answered carefully

​

Kirie smiled knowingly at Corazona’s subtle admission of guilt, letting the matter slide as the young Jedi bent down to greet Hana. These two seemed nice. Seemingly well-adjusted in a way the old guard of New Jedi had not been. The whole Order seemed, with some exceptions, to be healing. It gave her some hope for the coming years.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Hana." With a hand now crossed over her chest, she dipped her head in another bow. "And you, Princess. That sandwich looks good. Is it your favorite?"

Princess did a small aerial cartwheel at the greeting, and a smile crept to Kirie’s lips when she saw Corazona and Jasper interacting with Hana. The young girl reluctantly met Corazona’s eyes, nodding hesitantly at the questions and signing a quick ‘Yes’. When asked about her sandwich, she gave a grave nod and dutifully tore off a piece of the snack to offer to Cora.

Don't wanna be here?

Hana again nodded, her distaste for the event had been obvious, and with a slightly conspiratorial look signed her reply.

‘We are going to get a treat after. Kirie said so.’ Hana signed confidently.

“We are.” Kirie confirmed with a grin. It was nice to see Hana engaging. The girl had been so down lately, not socialising, talking, not doing her work or practice. It had only been over the last few days, but it had Kirie concerned. Maybe she needed some more friends her age.

Turning her attention back to the two Jedi, Kirie went on.

“I don’t think we’ll be here much longer either. Got to get this one her treat and head back. But it has been nice meeting the both of you. I suppose I’ll see you around at the Temple, come say hello if you need help with anything.”

 

[Mercy]

Ishida Ashina

Her nostrils flared.

Not out of annoyance for once. No, this little girl was entirely diplomatic and polite, which was a nice change of pace. For some reason many thought her size was a challenge for them to overcome. She lost track of the amount of mouthy teenagers thinking she wouldn't put them through a wall just because of their size or age or both.

Pity to them.

"Fine?" Mercy laughed with clear mirth and enjoyment. This was not really appropriate on a remembrance day. "I am glorious, darling. Free food, free drinks and much of it."

She rolled her shoulders like tectonic plates shifting under the earth crust.

"Well, I enjoy crab. Fancy as feth isn't it?"

It hadn't originally been crab, in fact. When Mercy pulled the plate back Ishida would get a closer look at her arm. It was bulky, yes, but beyond the muscularity that signified a freak of nature there was something far more disturbing with it. It had tattoos on it. Not the normal ones you might expect from a self-obsessed gangster wanting to show off their resistance to pain or social mores.

No, these were colorful and bright and they seemed to be moving on their own. Under Mercy's skin and on it, locking and unlocking into new patterns as she moved a big crab snack into her even bigger mouth.

Chew chew chew.

meatmeatmeatmeat.

If Mercy's presence in the Force suggested corruption? Her arm underlined wrongness. Something not quite out of this world. It was a good thing it was currently behaving.

"You sure you don't want one... or six maybe? You must still be growing, can't ever go wrong with some additional food intake."

This time the plate didn't leave her proximity however. She was too busy munching on them between sentences.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Osarla Ridor

He felt the warring of emotions within her.

It had shocked him to find that the statuesque Master Ridor, who seemed so in control, had so much going on just under the surface. Sobering, yes, but also a relative relief.

This meant his own emotions weren't the affront he had been led to believe.

"They can't applaud anymore, or celebrate, or do anything what it means to be alive." Sion gently gestured towards the statues. "I understand the applause is meant to celebrate their sacrifice, but I don't think sacrifice should be celebrated. We should be one with them in this moment. Feel what they feel. Embrace the silence they will have to exhibit until these stones are ground to dust."

A sobering and disquieting observation from someone so young as Sion.

Then he grimaced and shrugged awkwardly.

"At least for five minutes. Because we have the rest of our lives-" Short it might be. "-to be loud as the living are." Sion looked up to the burly figure that was his Master. "But I am just a Padawan, Master, what do I know about these rituals? I am sure this was well thought-out and prepared with all the cultural sensitivity that is required."

He reached out, hesitantly, before touching her arm. He couldn't wrap his fingers around it even if he tried. So a gentle touch would have to suffice.

"Thank you for standing with me here. I draw strength from you and it means more to me than you might know."

 

[Osarla Ridor]

GENERAL RIDOR
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
CORUSCANT | SENATE PLAZA | FIELD OF HEROES
Sion Lorray

Osarla listened quietly to Sion's explanation, appreciative that he hadn't shrunk away entirely and refused to speak further on his initial idea. To reinforce how open her ears were, she nodded thoughtfully, as if considering the implications.

To be aware of feeling nothing at all was a sobering idea. Uncomfortable, even.

"Very thoughtful." She agreed, considering it. He'd been close to death once, and speaking about the looming silence might have been uncomfortable for him. He had friends that he'd lost in that war camp. Friends that were now forever silent. "This is to be an annual event, perhaps we try that next year."

"But I am just a Padawan, Master, what do I know about these rituals? I am sure this was well thought-out and prepared with all the cultural sensitivity that is required."

"If you make a statement you believe in, do not undercut it with rank." Osarla scolded, finding some relief that there was at least something she could teach in this moment. If she just learned from Sion today, that would be embarrassing.

That was perhaps the most challenging thing about having a student like Sion. He was so soft, and while it was her duty to see him hardened, it was a delicate affair to maintain the right soft points. Giving him the confidence to find which parts to nurture, and which to outgrow, was her first stab at it.

So she smiled softly "Especially when yah've been asked to share."

The Chancellor's departure had been several minutes now. People, locals and visitors, were taking holo-memories with the Batallion in their ceremonial uniform in the background. It was weird, and Osarla gave a signal to relieve the troops of their formal standing sentry. Row by row, they'd peel away from the organized location and able to mingle with the locale. Or however they wanted to spend Remembrance Day.

"Thank you for standing with me here. I draw strength from you and it means more to me than you might know."

Through her armour, she barely felt the touch of Sion's fingers. It was like a gentle brush, a reed, against a boulder. Her expression neutralized, trying hard not to melt at the little softie with the scarred up face. She almost hit him with the It's my duty, kid just to bring him back to reality but he was already weathering so much. That would have been tasteless.

Instead, she nodded and appreciated the sentiment.

"Of course, kid. That's what I'm here for."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Oh-"

Cora hadn't expected Hana to offer her part of the sandwich, but she accepted the gift with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Hana. You are very generous!"

While Jasper interacted with Kirie and Hana, Cora looked on with curious eyes as she took delicate, mannerly bites of the snack. She didn't understand sign language, but it was fascinating to see them interact. Mentor and student relationships were still very new to her.

With the speech over, some of those present had begun to leave the plaza. Others stayed and milled with friends and comrades, perhaps reliving one of the darkest days in Coruscant's history, or stood silently near one of the monuments to pay their respects.

Kirie and Hana seemed to be on their way out, too.

"It was a pleasure to meet you both, Kirie and Hana." With a hand pressed over her heart, Cora offered a brief bow and polite smile. "I hope that we can meet again under more pleasant circumstances. And...enjoy your treat, Hana."

Before straightening, she gave Hana a playful wink.

When Jasper shifted a tic closer and offered an ear, Cora weighed her options. Adept as she was at reading courtly social situations, she'd been trying to gauge the appropriate amount of time she had to spend here before departing. Despite this being a public event, she did not want to appear rude by leaving early or not staying long enough.

It would be suitable to leave now, she deemed. Get away from all of the doom and gloom.

"It just...feels a little awkward being here without having been there." Cora's words came slowly as she tried to figure them out. Even if her fellow Padawans hadn't been present for the attack on Coruscant, many of them had seen war or something terrible in another form. The more time she'd spent here, the more acutely aware she'd become of her sheltered life. "Some days it feels like I have no right to be here at all."

Cora cringed almost immediately, lips pulling into a grimace as she pressed the palm of one hand to her face. "Oh, that came out...different."

Kirie Jasper Kai'el

 

[Auteme]

Zaavik Perl ​

It was a brief glimpse -- a man in the crowd, striking eyes, a sinister smile -- but she found herself frozen at the sight nonetheless. Could it be? On a day of such striking loss, how terrible that one might genuinely come back to her.

She felt her breaths getting shorter. Was she seeing things? Then she felt something metal at her back, a hand on her arm, whispers in her ear, and tears in her eyes. Suddenly she wasn't ready to be there; suddenly her heart felt heavy. Her hands felt clammy, and she felt herself losing balance. She lurched forward unintentionally, held up mostly by the man behind her.

"Zaavik," she wheezed. Her hand came up and covered her mouth, half-blocking the tears that began to pour from her eyes. There was so much she wanted to say, but her throat seemed to close up at the very thought. "W-wait."

One of her guards started towards her, but she held up a finger to him for a moment while she caught her breath.

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Location
Tags:

‘We are going to get a treat after. Kirie said so.’ Hana signed confidently.

“We are.”

"Sounds like fun," Jasper responded.

He smiled a little when Hana offered part of her sandwich to Cora. Children were often far more considerate then people generally gave them credit for, and it seemed that Kirie was a good guardian.

"I hope to see you around more," he stated. "It seems like familiar faces aren't as frequent around the temple these days. Or maybe I'm just not around enough." The last part he added on with a slight chuckle.

As Kirie and Hana made their leave, Cora began to speak again...

"It just...feels a little awkward being here without having been there."

"Some days it feels like I have no right to be here at all."

Jasper gave her a warm smile when she became embarrassed. He understood what she meant, especially the part about feeling out of place.

"Can I tell you a story?" Jasper began again, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I grew up at the temple. I was left on the doorstep at a young age, so I've seen a fair deal of things around here. I... knew a boy around my age. He was sort of a loner, outcast type. Real quiet too. He hid away because he thought he was weaker then his peers. Maybe he was. When he came of age, no teacher stepped forward to train him, so he ran away. He packed up his things and left on the nearest transport off world. That was before Coruscant was attacked..."

Jasper sighed as he turned to look at the temple. It had been his home this entire time, yet he always felt so conflicted about what it made him feel. Comfort? Dread? Valued? Isolated? It was always hard to say, yet somehow, even through doubt, he was always drawn back to its steps.

"I feel guilty about it still," he admitted. "Not being there. I probably couldn't have done anything, but... I think about it anyways. Everyone feels that pressure to some extent. Like they're out of touch, or out of place. That they just don't belong. It's pretty easy to forget that people can grow and change. If you don't feel like you have the right to be here, it's because you haven't learned what being here means to you yet. Legacy is important, but it should be left in the past. The only thing that's important is living up to the standard you set for yourself."

The young knight put his hands behind his head and gave a half-shrug. That was enough philosophy for one day, and he still had his own growing to do.

"I can't tell you what that means," Jasper added, "I'm not you after all... but maybe give it some thought. It might help you put some things into perspective."

The grin returned to his face after a moment of silence.

"I'm probably gonna head out. I promised Jalen I'd take him to get lunch. Wanna tag along?"

 

[Ishida Ashina]

THE DAUGHTER OF DUTY
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | BUFFET TABLES
Mercy | CLOSED

​

Each second passed in this mountain’s presence became more and more uncouth. Ishida fought the urge to wince at the woman’s crassness in the face of remembrance and mourning, ignoring all the ceremony for the benefit of free food.

Even those from the underworld hadn’t crawled up to take liberties with the spread. If anyone should have, it should have been the needy urchins. Or the families of the lost.

That was only one distracting thing. The other was the flash of the mesmerizing inkwork. On Atrisia, especially Hebo which was verge luddite, tattoos were something to bristle at. And that darkside notion she’d detected was not waning, but it wasn’t growing either.

Had she felt something? Or was she imagining it? Wanting to feel some sort of connection to Qi’yon?

The woman’s brash statements shook her from her ruminations.

“I, what?” She looked perplexed, and glanced down at herself, then back up to the red-head, a frown plainly planted across her lips and her brows furrowed obstinately. “I am not still growing. Why would you think that?”

---

 

[Mercy]

Ishida Ashina

For a moment Mercy stopped chewing.

Was she... serious?

No, this petite miniscule woman must be fucking with her, right? It was pretty obvious to Mercy to the extent that she looked around in the classical 'are you seeing this'-gesture that often populated pop culture. Nobody, in fact, was seeing it. Because they either had their own thing to do or were desperately trying not to get involved.

With no help from the outside Mercy smiled in the closest approximation of kindness she had.

"I mean, lady." And there? She actually reached out to tap Ishida's head. As if to indicate the sheer discrepancy or lack of something on top. "You are tiny and I mean... positively miniscule. Not in a bad way! Not everyone grows the same!"

Look at that.

Mercy was actually trying to be nice about it. There was no cruelty or mischief involved with it.

"But you could probably fit inside me like, what? Four times?" There Mercy smirked. "You could try anyway." Snickering a little bit at that she chewed up another crab delicacy. Halfway through the sniggering Mercy actually paused. Thinking of something. "You know, I think I could actually throw you into battle like a little portable explosive knife."

That was a fun thought.

"Have you ever done that before?"

 

[Frea Sheplin]

The thump of her heartbeat pushed the adrenaline through her body. Frea had never been known to be a quitter, much less a coward. The headlights of the oncoming truck blinded one half of her face as the broadcasts of the Supreme Chancellor's speech blared across the emptied streets. She glared over at her competitor's equally careless surf along the district walls to take in his next move. The whir of her speeder bike shrieked with an accomapnying hiss as she deliberately just barely dodged out of the way from the truck to feel that ever so hypnotic sense of relief take over again.

If being addicted to this high was wrong, she didn't want to be right.

The circuit continued down a notorious drop, Frea killed the stabilizers to truly feel the pull of gravity for a moment before she flicked them on and sped into the tunnels again. The authorities were on them again, but that hardly stopped either of the two racers as they separated and began their efforts to shake their tails and regroup at the finishing line where they both were met by their adoring fans.

Her fist pumped in the air as Frea took the helmet off and let out an ecstatic yell of equal measures relief and joy. Her manager approached, she got her money for this elaborate dance, and not too long after that she was back on the streets again to ride the high as long as she could take it; which wasn't very long at all.

Remembrance days did as they do. At first she had walked with a confident swagger, but by the time she had gotten through most of the crowds Frea walked the streets with her hands firmly in her pockets and sullen face. While the lower streets were more authentic, perhaps it wasn't the right spot to see the sights of a day such as this. At least if she wanted to see what the big deal was. As in, you know, the statues, the lanterns, the snazzy suits pretending to care for the plight of the middle- and lower class as they stuffed their faces with the ill-gotten gains of a population exploited by their corporate overlords.

Or as most would call it: being a total sellout.

Well, as someone who had indeed sold out -- not just in terms of accepting corporate sponsors in the racing circuit but having joined the navy at one point as well -- who was Frea to really judge anyone? She took the elevator to the top and stepped out into the Senate Plaza. A place like that was bound to have some of the better views of the whole event.

 

[Zaavik Perl]

CORUSCANT, SENATE PLAZA
CLOSED (Reopening soon)| HIDDEN​

[WHO DARES TO COME AND GET ME?]​

---

"Zaavik,"

"How perceptive," he taunted. Her sudden loss of equanimity discharged a thick empathic ripple onto the Force. It twinged the receptors of his empathic senses, coaxing them to open and absorb every immeasurable drop of the psychic emanation. A sharp sigh into Auteme's ear evinced an air of frustrated displeasure. "Such discomposure, and from the Chancellor of the Alliance no less?" Disdainful venom seethed in the observation. Once again the grip tightened, now tense enough to summon pain from the nerves beneath his grasp. "It would appear there is emotion, after all," he mocked, echoing criticism of a code they'd once recited side-by-side so many years ago.

A twist of the saber hilt dug itself into her lower back, a wordless warning as a riposte to the encroach of security. "I thought you of all people would have more grace," he derided. A look of disgust overtook his face, contortions painting volumes of loathing for no one to see. "All the way at the top, yet you remain so weak, speaking falsehoods about strength in front of a podium whilst imperiling this Republic with complacency and fragility." Three quiet clicks of Zaavik's tongue sang condescendingly into Auteme's ear. "I can't tell if you've played these people or yourself for such a fool."

Invisible influence slithered around to the opposite ear, unseen eyes scrutinizing the guard that awaited concerned. "Now, compose yourself, Chancellor." The demand came with yet another increase in intensity from restraining, metallic fingers. "Let's talk."

Auteme

 

[Sion Lorray]

Osarla Ridor

Her scolding made his shoulders sag in just slightly.

Less so than it had the first time Ridor gave him an earful however.

"Am I so transparent, Master?" He murmurs gently as he looks away over the crowd. "I am not used to people asking for my opinion." Sion finally answered truthfully and with a sigh. "It feels strange and I expect to be scolded right after." Then he shot her an apologetic glance upwards. "Not like you did, that one was deserved, don't worry." Trying to reassure her as best as he could.

Which was difficult to gauge.

Master Osarla Ridor was a boulder. Hardy, firm and you could depend on her when the storm was at its highest. But. Sometimes Sion wondered what was going on behind those steep walls.

Surface emotions Sion got, yes. But was there something else going on there in the inner of inners?

Sion nodded there but didn't go into it. It felt wrong to him. Having Master Ridor spend so much time on him, when she was a decorated general and leader of men. She certainly had better things to do than let him draw on her. "Have you heard of Padawan Pryce lately?" Sion didn't truly know the young boy.

They had been together during the Imperial incursion, but... Gabriel was a difficult one to understand.

So much spite and conflict for someone so young.

"I worry."

If that wasn't in-character...

 

[Ishida Ashina]

THE DAUGHTER OF DUTY
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | BUFFET TABLES
Mercy | CLOSED

​

On the best of days, the mildest of interactions, Ishida was oft’ defensive. When someone with an itching sensation of corruption touched her with no regard for manners or boundaries? She was positively riled. So much so, that Mercy’s attempt to soften the observation of Ishida’s stunted growth was almost entirely missed.

"Do not," the warning hissed through her teeth.

Her hand reached up swiftly, to swat the side of her palm against Mercy’s wrist. There was no hope in wrapping any fingers around it, but there was an intensity to her connection that meant to ensure there was no more interference with her personal space. From someone who could very well be a Sith.

Then came the incredulous suggestion of launching Ishida as an exploding shoto.

If this woman wasn't, maybe, a Sith that required supervision, Ishida would have left by now. But this was..unfortunately, her responsibility now.

It took all the strength she could muster to remain calm, and seek out a motive.

"You're thinking of battle on a day of Remembrance?"

---

 

[Mercy]

Ishida Ashina

"Hey." She took her hand back with a raised eyebrow. "Touchy, touchy. I was jus' saying, darling." Definitely not a kid though. Which kinda switched her tack ever so slightly.

Now Mercy relaxed, turning from eating mode, to stalking mode.

A different sort of food.

Mercy looked her up and down. Really looking now. Usually Mercy didn't pay much attention to other people. They didn't truly exist in her perspective, but sometimes... you had to make an exception. However. What Mercy saw didn't particularly trigger her. She was rather thin, small and Mercy was reasonably sure she'd break her.

Even if she wasn't trying.

"What, and you aren't?" Bemused there as Ishida seemed to accuse her.

One lazy finger casted past Ishida (not touching buuut) towards the assembly of statues. "You dun' wanna bring the fight to the folks that did da? Snap their necks, crunch their bones, 'til there's nothing left that can ever huuuurt anyone again?"

Drawled there almost as lazily as her finger gesture.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

THE DAUGHTER OF DUTY
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | BUFFET TABLES
Mercy | CLOSED

​

With language like that, so absolute and violent, Ishida’s judgment was inching closer and closer to certainty. The predicament, however, lay not in condemnation — but in de-escalation.

Maybe she could bore the woman into leaving.

She sniffed her response, as if she were too dignified to consider such a thing. How unJedi like.

But she was thinking it. Day in and day out. How much the Darkness needed to be eradicated.

“Do you?”

---

 

[Mercy]

Ishida Ashina

Nothing given.

How utterly boring.

Mercy yawned there slowly. "You know, I heard the Jedi were weak, but I didn't realize they were utterly without inspiration." Murmured almost conversationally. As if she hadn't just insulted the entire Order Ishida had dedicated her life to. Granted, Mercy didn't know the context of Ishida's life, but she had seen enough Jedi to be able to guess.

Their stories were more often than not similar, if not a carbon copy.

"Why aren't you honest, hm?" And there Mercy suddenly pushed her in the shoulder. It was meant to be a little playful push, but perhaps because of the sheer size differential... well.

"If not with me, at least with yourself, darling."

And then another push if Ishida would allow it, now that she saw it coming.

Still... playful.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

THE DAUGHTER OF DUTY
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | BUFFET TABLES
Mercy | CLOSED

​

“My thoughts are none of your concern.” Ishida rebutted, reinforcing her posture against the second minor assault. She let her shoulder give way the first time, because she was unprepared, but the second time, she was steadfast.

She knew it was verging on a cruelty to herself to be so optimistic about the demise of the New Sith Order, and by extension, The Brotherhood — but thus far, she’d been incapable of resisting the urge. There were entire days spend basking in idiotic fantasies, some almost verging on prayer, for the desire to just give in to chronic bloodlust and just be done with it all.

“My actions will be the most honest of all.”

Once again, she reached up to brush Mercy’s playful and incessant touch away from her, staying true to her original indignation.

This Sith was…aware that those statues were dead because of a Sith Order, right?

Ishida bit.

“But maybe they’re uninspired. You seem to have thought about it, and how to do it."

---