Event Solstice of Mirage Fields [Open to All]

[Srina Talon]

"Beware the key that fits every lock, for not all that opens was meant to be free."
Diavolin: The Shattered Reach​

Every act, large and small, holds a consequence with the equivalent of a butterfly effect. The galaxy as a whole has been the site of many tragedies, whether it is a natural calamity, or self-made. They have not lessened in frequency or severity regardless of the arms that rise to push the tide one way or the other. Hope presses fervently against despair, while despair threatens to swallow it whole. Light and darkness fight to decide which alignment is the true cause for an eclipse, all the while, pushing the natural flow of the Force into a constant state of imbalance. The veil between Real Space and the Netherworld has gradually thinned over the last century without most taking notice…

What is worse?

No one knows that the other side is waiting.​

Nether Rifts, portals, have appeared of their own accord in many places in the galaxy. Some planets and cities have several while an entire system may have none at all. There seems to be no rhyme or reason as to how, when, or where they will appear—Only that they do so suddenly and without warning. This is not the first time it has happened. The last…Resulted in the final Omni-Crisis in which an old enemy of the galaxy returned with a rash of mayhem in its wake.

The situation is at the very least extremely worrisome to those who recall the threats of the past.

At Present:

​

Each portal has arrived with an envoy from Diavolin that has taken the appearance of an almost festive jester. It appears that they are aware of "Life Day" and have taken pains to imitate the season without knowing anything about it. Something doesn't seem quite right about them, but they are willing to guide outsiders into The Shattered Reach for a small token. The price of admission is the offering of a secret from each individual about themselves. It can be large or small—But it must be true.

The envoys speak in riddles but they don't tolerate lying.

While the Jedi and other light-aligned Force users tend to embrace Life Day with joy and unity, the Sith, and other dark-aligned beings mark this season with power, remembrance, and dark revelation. Since it tends to be the machinations of the Darkside that have caused the barrier between real space and the mists to thin... Diaolin has begun to shape with that framework. Jedi or light-sided individuals would not be barred from entry, but they would notice that the "celebratory" atmosphere has a chaotic edge that mirrors the Sith ethos. It's a challenge, certainly, but what Jedi backs down so easily from the unknown?

Upon arrival, all will discover they've been invited to participate in rites, challenges, and feasts in a realm where the veil between life and death is razor-thin. It is Solstice for Diavolin—But Solstice may have a different meaning in the Reach. There is something mysterious about it. Rules to observe, that must not be broken.

 

[Srina Talon]

Activities:

Hosted by the Nether Moon Cantina [The Tavern in the Diavolin]

​

A grand banquet hall has been carved into floating fragments of ruins, illuminated by purple crystals and dim Nether fires. These lights can be seen from a distance and new arrivals will likely feel beckoned by the scent of sweet treats and culinary delights. The Midnight Revel serves as a hub for interaction, an entertaining meal, and a subtle battlefield designed for those seeking to exert influence. This may come in many forms. Poisoned drinks, veiled threats, cultivating new relationships, and learning about Diavolin would be commonplace.

Rivalries can play out, alliances could be formed or broken, and mysterious dishes served by spectral servants may have strange effects on those bold enough to partake. (The effect can be decided by the writer.)

Visitors would also learn about other activities that they can participate in if they don't stumble upon them on their own.

Hosted By Honnanet Heights [Location Within Diavolin]

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This would be a central event of the gathering that involves a ritualistic scavenger hunt across the fragmented landscape. The goal is to retrieve a Shard of Power—a crystalline fragment of immense Force energy hidden in the Reach. Participants would have no trouble finding them if they are attuned to the Force…But they may encounter difficulties along the way. This hunt tests intellect, strength, and mastery of the Force.

Whoever physically touches the shard first will find that it disappears in a gleam of purple light that appears as a temporary, glowing, tattoo of a four-pointed star on their arm. Participants may battle each other to reach them first, but they may also need to face Diavolin's natural perils, including gravity-defying maelstroms, Force-warping phenomena, and restless spirits. Visitors may choose to betray, form alliances, work together, or alone. When enough shards are collectively gathered there will be a ritual to unite the shards…But there is only the hunt, offered. There is no description of the power they may bestow or what may occur.

Some may even choose to try and stop the ritual for fear that there is malevolence behind it.

There very well could be.

Hosted by Cinder Valley [Trial Forests - Location Within Diavolin]

​

The Shattered Reach contains pockets of memory, where participants may confront echoes of their past or things that are yet to come. It can be a place for reflection or finding new strengths. These visions can test resolve, faith, ambition, and any inner demons the visitors might have hidden. It should be noted that this section of the Netherworld seems intent on exploiting weaknesses whenever possible...

Jedi or light-aligned Force users present may struggle with more hopeful or tragic echoes.
Sith or dark-aligned Force users might encounter shades of their former selves, challenging their current path. It could also occur to them in different ways, fashions, and writers should feel free to be as creative as they like.

The Purple Tent

​

An unsuspecting merchant's tent made of patchwork purples on the outside, an eclectic amalgamation of cushions and trinkets on the inside, has appeared within Diavolin for the Solstice. The tent may change locations at random and seems to be run by a mysterious individual known as the Collector . There can be any number of rarities found within this royal-shaded shop, however, it should be noted that those with ill intent may find their mental faculties left in an altered state. Enter, seek this place, at your own risk.

Hosted by…Everywhere​

Those who cross through the rift are not required to join in any of the above activities but can freely navigate the fragmented Nether zone at their own risk. This landscape is unpredictable, full of secrets, full of mazes, crystal forests, and inexplicable monoliths, and the entirety of the fragmented space almost seems to be alive. It will grant visitors the things they need the most, the least, without ever making sense as to how or why. Diavolin does not necessarily "speak" with words but it does have a sort of crude sense of humor. It can turn a bomb into a snowball or a blaster bolt into a flower. It does not seem to serve anyone or anything but does like to make itself known.

This area could be more suited for personal adventures, but they are also welcome in the other activities as well. This would be free form, do as you please, and enjoy the "holiday atmosphere that has swept through the zone. Everything seems to have a story-book festive aesthetic but there are times when it may seem incredibly wrong, or off.

TLDR: This is your "BYOO" option. Do you like the Netherworld but don't really jive with the activities? That's cool - Feel free to do you.

 

[Srina Talon]

Portals to Diavolin have opened all over the galaxy, but many have been focused in areas that have a strong connection to the Force or in places of great calamity. ​

Notable Worlds:

Korriban
Tython
Dagobah
Jedha
Jutrand
Voss
Ziost
Rakata Prime
Yavin IV
Illum
Malachor V
Dromund Kaas
*Feel free to add portals anywhere that might be convenient for your character.

 

[Srina Talon]

What are they? How do I get them? ​

• Trinkets: Six winter-themed submissions can be claimed automatically by writers. For every third post, the participant can choose a new item from the list. It can be used immediately after it is chosen within any thread as "Diavolin", the Nether Area itself, will present it to the character as if by magic. (Or writers may feel free to have their characters happen upon it.)
  • Hot Chocolate
  • Dancer's Breath
  • Festive Hat
  • Dancer's Breeze
  • Dancer's Grace
  • Dancer's Cane
• Signature Bling: There are currently eleven options for "flair" for signatures, however, any number of custom bars can be requested from Srina Talon via PM. Any of the signature bling can be chosen at any time at the discretion of the writers.
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• Currency: Random gifts of Underworld Credits will be provided to participants.
• Custom Avatar Frame: A Diavolin-specific "Avatar" will be created. Members need only submit their image to Srina Talon via PM.

 

[Queen Bots™]

Greetings from the Envoys
Location: Nether Rifts/Portals (Variety of Locations in the Galaxy)
x

The portal shimmered like frozen lightning, a jagged oval carved into the fabric of reality itself. Before it, on a platform of ice that seemed to breathe with an unnatural chill, stood the figure who had waited for hours—or maybe years, depending on their mood and interpretation of time.

The Envoy of Diavolin was a chaos of color against the pale frost. Silks of crimson and gold draped a wiry frame, and bells jingled softly with every exaggerated gesture. Their faces were hidden beneath a half-mask or painted expertly to resemble some sort of macabre circus performer. The ensemble was completed by a long staff topped with a spinning crystal shard that hummed a tune not everyone would be able to hear.

It would specifically call to Force Sensitives, a lure, but that didn't mean that the everyday creature couldn't stumble upon them. The Envoy would not deny them. All were welcome to experience the "delight" of Mirage Fields.

When the first visitor approached, perhaps hesitant against the Netherworld’s biting air, and the strangeness of it, the jester snapped to attention, spinning the staff and bowing low enough to scrape the ice.

“Ah! Wanderers from the warm, dull lands of real space!”

The voice was theatrical, equal parts honey and nails.

“Welcome, welcome, to the edge of all you know and all you dare not know! This—”, they gestured dramatically at the shimmering portal, “—is your doorway to the Diavolin Mists, where winter never sleeps and secrets dream of being found. There is power here. Merriment! Excitement…Everything a Solstice could ever offer. Are you brave enough to face the pale? To cross between this world and the next?”

They twirled the staff again, leaning in conspiratorially, "...But—There is a catch. A little one. A teensy, weensy, infinitesimal hitch.”

The jester's grin—painted or real—stretched impossibly wide. “You see, my frosty friends, this portal is hungry. Not for flesh—oh no, that’s far too pedestrian. It craves the truth. One secret from each of you! Large, small, juicy, dry… It matters not, so long as it is true. A lie, however...”

They leaned back, spinning on one foot and spreading their arms wide. “Well, a lie turns the portal into a very cranky little beast. And cranky portals are so inconvenient, don’t you agree? Spits people out in pieces, sometimes!”

The jester’s laughter rang out, echoing unnaturally, bouncing off the cold air like shards of shattered glass. It would be unclear if they were being serious or trying to add to the intrigue of what they had to offer. They clapped their hands once and stepped aside, sweeping the staff toward the portal like a carnival barker presenting their main attraction.

“So! Who shall be the first to brave the icy unknown? Offer your secret, step through, and discover the wonders, riches, and mystery of Diavolin! Or… lie, and let’s see how creative the portal can be with its rejection.”

The envoy tilted their head, their bell jingling softly. “Come now, don’t be shy. Surely you all have a little truth you’d rather part with than your limbs? The Solstice of Mirage Fields waits for no one!”

[Upon passing through the portal they will find themselves at the Nether Moon Cantina where a feast has been readied. The food magically never gets cold and the drinks are always the exact temperature they're supposed to be. There will be travelers from all over the galaxy, friends, enemies, and everything else in between. The citizens of the Shattered Reach will not interfere if parties start warring over the dinner table but Diavolin itself may interrupt should the land see fit. The rules of the land are in effect, save, for traveling at night. It is acceptable during the Solstice but one should still act wisely.]​

Commonly Accepted Practices:

• Keep to your word. They don't grade on a curve for this. A promise is a promise and an oath is an oath. (Be careful, words may be twisted just enough so that no laws are broken.)
• When someone asks for a loan it is usually wise to give it, however, debts must always be repaid to the satisfaction of the lender. The borrower may not pay with exactly what they took but they can offer up something of the equivalent in kind.
• Reciprocity and obligatory return are strongly emphasized.
• Visitors may not stay more than 48 Galatic Standard Hours.
• Citizens may not leave Diavolin unless it is for official business requested by the Ephor.
• Different parts of the Shattered Reach, as it is broken, have slightly different customs.
• The Ephor have ruled that "It wasn't me—It was a shapeshifter who looked like me" is not a valid defense for any crime.
• Knowingly trading shoddy or adulterated goods is illegal, while public intoxication, disturbing the peace, gambling, and even the occasional assault is mostly fine.
• Theft can land the perpetrator in a soul-sucking Ephor prison trap.
• Murder is a complicated subject that often relies on case details. Outcomes are determined by the Ephor. Sometimes, the deceased deserved it.
• The innocent do not travel at night. None should, if they wish to live.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Tag: Persephone Dashiell

Soon after their rendezvous on Rakata Prime, Lysander found himself drawn to a portal that appeared frozen; its glow captivated his ever curious spirit. Without a single ounce of hesitation, he suggested to Persie that they check it out, excited to discover its secrets and mysteries. Knowing they both shared a keen interest in fashion, he had chosen something other than the usual Jedi robes. Today, he embraced formal attire: a deep blue tunic with silver edges, paired with fitted trousers and polished black boots.

As they approached the Envoy of Diavolin, his heart instantly began to race. The jester's rather dramatic gestures piqued his interest as they explained the need to share a truth before being able to step through. But they made him nervous, too.

A chill ran down the Padawan's spine, his mind struggling to conjure a truth to match the challenge before them. Despite the fearlessness so often displayed in his youthful demeanor, the thought of being 'spat out in pieces' was enough to distill fear in his heart.

Inhaling a deep breath, he finally stepped forward. "One time, during a tournament back on Ukatis, I snuck into the armory and drew smiley faces on all the knights shields with charcoal. I blamed my sister Corazona von Ascania for it, and she even got into trouble," he confessed with a mischievous grin, feeling as though a heavy lifted from his shoulders in that exact moment.

Before any nod of acceptance, or becoming more relaxed, he then felt inclined to reveal one more, just in case. “Sometimes I’m afraid of never becoming the Jedi I’m supposed to be,” the teen added. The words even surprised him with how honest they were.

Relief finally enveloped him. The portal whispered with the allure of adventure. He instinctively wanted to reach for Persie's hand, to venture together into the unknown, but also understood he must go alone, confident she would be right behind him.

With a final glance at her, Lysander stepped forward and crossed the threshold.

 

[Collector]

​

Tag: Open

Like with many festivals across the galaxy, the Purple Tent was a patch of color among the many offerings of the Diavolin. Its tent flaps remained closed though they maintained an alluring pull that would call to some like a siren's song. Those in need, those searching for something, those particularly touched by ambition, would find the myriad of purples singing to them from the peripheral.

Inside, The Collector leaned back into his favorite collection of pillows, a drink resting delicately in his bejeweled fingers. It was a stiffer liquid than his usual mix, the cost for entrance for both him and his shop being much higher than the standard admission. The secret he had shared was one he could not remember ever speaking allowed in the recent era. The gravity of if such information made it to the waking world sent a tremor down the lavender man's hands.

The drink had helped his nerves. Even more helpful was the actual start of the festival. The promise of business (and even more enticing, stories) was enough to drag a lazy smile onto his face. A soft chime from bells unseen would ring in the back of his head once the tent flaps opened. His smile widened to that of a greeting.

"Welcome. Do have a seat, have a drink. And tell me - just what is it you're searching for?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

TAG: Open

Sleep had always been something Gerwald had struggled with since his first encounter with the Noćna Mora. He remembered it vividly. It had been the first time he could recall a direct order and decision of his leading to the death of those under his command and charge. There had been those who also perished because they chose to disobey a direct command. As he often did when he could not sleep, the Dread Wolf walked out to the balcony which overlooked the cityscape of the Sith capital. Jutrand had been his home since the day he had given his service to Darth Empyrean .

The dream had faded. Gerwald was no longer chased by the beast. Naedira was separated from the creature because of the actions taken by Srina Talon . She had used him as a tether for the woman in order to anchor Naedira to the world of the living. There were occasions where the veil between the Netherworld and the corporeal plane was thin. Often the phenomena centered around places and pockets, but there were certain seasons when many places seemed affected by the collision of life and death.

His eyes watched over the city, an ethereal glow visible not too great a distance away. It was a curious thing. It behaved as a cosmic event, but not like any the Dread Wolf knew. Gerwald had always been a curious creature. It often got the better of him. This time it would again.

Gerwald donned his armor before leaving for what drew him. Something about the glow pulled him toward it. It was as though it held the Wolf in its gravitational wake. He could sense something pushing him toward it as well. The sense as though the creature of his nightmares would return at any moment to take what it wanted began to haunt him again. Gerwald knew why the thing had invaded his dreams. It was almost like a promise that once it was finished with Naedira, it would pursue him. Maybe it had been the ring on a chain he wore around his neck which drew the beast toward him.

Tonight, Gerwald did not know what it was, why it was happening. He wanted to know why.

The journey was short.

The Envoy of Diavolin was bright and colorful. He pranced about the archway, the veil between Jutrand and a shimmering city which lay on the other side. It demanded a secret as the toll to cross. With his eyes closed, Gerwald studied what was before him. He could feel the Netherworld, he could feel the creatures on the other side. The Dread Wolf pondered what he would say. What secret could he offer that he had never shared with anyone before. His eyes opened as he shook his head and chuckled. There was one secret which he had kept to himself, but he did not dare admit it. No, he needed to tell another.

“I actually do like fruity cocktails.”

The Jester laughed and waved the wolf through.

Diavolin opened to him.

 

[Liin Terallo]

Holding a business meeting in the conference room with droids was not what I had expected. And yet there is a first time for everything. A droid run society is not exactly the norm, nor is it something that we are used to on New Cov. Yet we are also not as prone to war as the rest of the Galaxy seems to be. Perhaps that is why the ancient civilization that had created The Heart of New Cov chose such a unique world.

There were no refreshments for me to provide this time. And to not be a rude host I did not even provide any for myself. Any such indulgences I will look after once the meeting is concluded.

"Thank you for coming. I do hope that your journey was pleasant and--"

A flash of light within the room catches my attention. Strange sounds like the air rippling which soon were accompanied by more light. As if it was some kind of whirlpool, the light swirled in the air until it was nearly a doorway. It was almost frightening.

"Are you doing this? Is this one of those gates that Miss Matsu Ike spoke about?" Such an inquiry was short lived when a jester of sorts entered from it. I rose to my feet in surprise as he had caught me off guard. The expression on his face seemed to pretend merriment, yet it did not quite pull it off.

Clearly I must be dreaming.

He danced and moved his staff, speaking in riddles. But what caught my attention was of when he spoke of winter. Never in my life have I encountered snow. New Cov is far too tropical of a climate for it. Yet I have always wanted to experience it. Even if I was only dreaming of it. That has to be what this is, right? And what a small price to pay for it too.

"Let's go together, shall we? It could be fun." Gingerly I step towards the portal. I find that my breath is held and so I release it. What secret should I give? There are quite a few. I could say that I have never fallen in love and never had anyone fall in love with me. But what if these secrets are somehow shared? Even in a dream I wouldn't want others to know. It would be so humiliating. So instead I decide upon something else. A secret that leads to another secret, yet does not risk revealing it should the first become known. "I am colorblind. I do not see things in the way that others do. There are times when I cannot spot the difference between one color or another."

Closing my eyes, I walk through the portal. The air feels like it is charged with static electricity; at least for a moment. My shoes come upon something soft. I open my eyes and see the ground white! Is it snow? I shiver in spite of myself for the air is much cooler here. And thinner. I had not thought of bringing a jacket.

I wrap my arms around myself as I wait for my guest to join me. Not far off there seems to be a tent that looks occupied. Perhaps we could find a jacket there.

Tags: BB-4001X Collector

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

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Tag: Open

Kurayami found himself wandering the Valley of the Kings, following an old set of coordinates that he had from a trip here many decades back. During that time he had been here on an excavation with someone who m he had been very close to. But she, like the others, had left to find her own way and he couldn't say he blamed her their pairing had always been a very strange one to say the least. An academic and a merc who couldn't remember a huge chunk of his past at the time? Yea definitely a great setup for long term commitment all he hoped was that she was holding out fine in the galaxy still and was happy with where life had taken her.

Today though, as he apprached the old ad decrepit tomb of a Sith Lord whose name was long lost to the annals of history, there was a strange sensation in the atmosphere of the place. It wasn't of the Dark Side as one would expect of a planet as steeped in Bogan as Korriban had been since time immemorial, no this was a different feeling as it also did not belong to the antithesis of the Darkness. This was something else entirely and yet it was still oddly familiar to the Corellian. Perhaps it should have been even if it shouldn't be to any mortal. Still he had to confirm that it was what he believed it to be.

Pulling the flask from his utility belt he took a long sip through a retractable straw before capping it and placing it back in the pouch he had taken it from originally. Sauntering forward, The Drunken Savant removed his helmet as he entered the antechamber of the tomb proper, and took note of the sight that greeted him within. Bingo. Thought I recognized you, been a while since my last visit. Did ya really miss me that much? I know I haven't called, but I been a bit busy as of late. Sorry I haven't had time to visit the Netherworld." To any outside observer, had there been any, the man was absolutely insane talking to a Netherworld portal as though it could understand him. Or was he addressing the odd jester who was quite eargerly waiting nearby with promises of entry for but a tiny price of only a secret.

Now there was the catch. So he had to provide a secret for entry this time, there weren't many that he could think of that were safe to let out into the open in case this were revealed at some point later. "The bloodsteel ring claimed to be from my fiancé was not hers. It belonged to my wingman, Amara." Truth, though he wouldn't ever admit it to another even should word get out. Easy enough to dispel as rumor. He checked his gear and made sure the plates of his XC-86 armor were well in place, and that the modified TL-50 was secure in its sling. Voidrender sat clipped on the left side of his belt, and behind the breathmask he smirked as he took a step into the Netherworld through the portal, hand resting calmly on his saber hilt as though this was absolutely normal for the man. Then again...who is to say it wasn't?

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Jutrand Portal to Nether Moon Cantina [Diavolin]
Tag: Darth Carnifex | Darth Caedes | Darth Prazutis [OPEN]

______________________________________​

...What?

Piercing golden orbs swept the City-Center of Jutrand, gaze narrowing, as she stared unblinkingly at the anomaly. There was an annoying little man standing on a podium in face paint, wielding a cane, and spouting off invitations to…A Solstice…Where? There was a portal behind him that snared all who looked at it with eldritch light and a tune was giving her tinnitus. The edges shifted against Real Space and the Nether Realm this clown kept blathering on about…

It was unnatural, regardless, the festive veneer the carnival jockey tried to put forward.

The diminutive woman had decided to take one of her infamous "walk-abouts" much to the chagrin of the Sepulchral that believed their Empress still too weakened from Echnos to hold her own teacup. The implication almost made her snarl, but, her usual empty countenance won out. She was cloaked in a fleece-lined cloak with a dark fur trim, prepared, for the seasonal cold—But ill-prepared to jump from one reality to the next. It was not on her agenda, strangely enough.

The fringe of obsidian dress robes could be seen from beneath the hem of her cloak, trimmed in silver, while lengths of white hair rolled down her back like frost. Her presence inherently radiated an unyielding cold—beautiful, distant, and utterly commanding even while wearing more civilian garb. She was not adept at remaining inconspicuous once something went wrong, even though, she gave it her best effort. "Report this immediately…", she murmured to the Pretorian that had not so sneakily followed her from the palace. He wasn't to leave her side, yet, at the order that flowed from her with an edge of deadly precision…There was no room for argument.

This should not be here.

It was a disturbance, unbidden and unwelcome, threatening, and a security risk. Who knew which spaces these portals joined together? Would it be feasible for the Alliance to lead an entire battalion through it? Her teeth locked together and her hand formed a fist but that was the only outward expression of her concerns. The rest…Was the usual, ice-laden, and detached façade.

The portal pulsed as though alive, resonating faintly. It wasn't trying to hide. Any sensitive with even the most basic understanding of the Force would be struck by the presence of something that should not be. It asked questions, and showed images, reflecting the advertisement from the jester.

A fairy-esque voice brushed against her mind, unable to press past her mental wards, but persistent all the same: Tell me a secret.

Srina's lips, a pale shade of blood, parted. What secret could it be seeking? Did it think her fool enough to divulge state secrets? Indecision pressed against her thoughts, but, the Empress had never been one to falter. She spoke low, her voice akin to that of the softest snowfall. There was no threat in her. Merely…A passing of information. "…I once killed a man with poorly cooked breakfast food."

That wasn't a secret…

"…Accidentally."

That part was. Most tended to assume that it was deliberate, but to her credit, the fool had deserved it.

The portal shuddered and the resonance deepened. Was it satisfied? Did it demand more? It hadn't tried to chew on her and spit her out so she could only assume that it fit the bill. Her hand brushed the hilt of her lightsaber, hidden beneath her cloak, at the base of her spine. It was all she needed. The chilling aura that surrounded her seemed to grow colder still, as if the Netherworld itself had decided to recoil. Still…The gateway opened.

A soft sigh escaped her, almost, as if she hoped it might have refused her. Her every instinct demanded that she uncover the truth of this anomaly—Whether it was a natural occurrence, a rift, a trap, or something far more insidious. She was not at full capacity.

It mattered not.

Duty called.

 

[Judah Lesan]

Wearing: This
Tag: Collector

It was cold. The Jedi Shadow had instantly regretted his trip to Ilum, however he had agreed to chaperone a group of padawans as they searched the ice caves for kyber crystals. The older Master remembered the first time he went hunting for his. The force had led him to Tatooine to face a krayt dragon. His first lightsaber had a silver blade. The pearl had split during the forging of the blade, leaving him with two lightsabers. One of the hilts was lost when Judah first lost his arm.

He looked at the arm now. The prosthetic was no longer the same. Another Sith had claimed the arm for a second time. Srina Talon had frozen it and snapped it off. He had a new one made, and he was still getting used to it. He rolled his fingers about as the chill of the air brought back the memory of his battle with the Sith Empress.

Suddenly a slash of light pulled his attention away from the group of students. The Jedi should not have ignored the children, but all he could see was a gate and clownlike figure which danced about the entrance to a city that had not been there before. Judah looked at the jester and listened to his speech. He wanted a secret?

The Jedi paused. There was something no one knew. Judah always walked too close to the line of what was light and what was dark. His moral compass was one which he was confident held him in good standing, but that did not mean he was innocent. The Corellian had taken life, and not all of it had been in defending the innocent. His days running from the underground, a former employer that had wanted him dead, led to the Jedi making compromising decisions.

“I killed a man that did not deserve it.”

It was a somber confession and the Jester nodded.

Judah walked through the threshold and found himself inside a…

…purple tent.

His eyes scanned the area, looking at the trinkets. Shelves, crates, and hanging displays crowd every corner of the space. Trinkets of all kinds, delicate glass pendants, brass keys with intricate engravings, and tiny bottles filled with shimmering powders glisten under the dim light of dangling lanterns. Strings of beads in every conceivable hue drape over racks, while old clocks tick faintly from a wooden counter.
A low table in the center holds a velvet-lined tray of rings set with glimmering stones, alongside miniature figurines carved from bone, ivory, and jade. Mirrors framed with tarnished silver reflect the clutter, making the tent feel larger and more enchanting.

Beneath the table, baskets overflow with miscellaneous wonders: mismatched dice, embroidered patches, and coins from faraway lands. Wind chimes made of shells and bells tinkle softly whenever a customer brushes past. The atmosphere buzzes with whispers of forgotten stories and promises of discovery.

Every item seems to hold a secret, waiting for the right person to unlock its mystery.

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

Tags : Lysander von Ascania | Collector | Liin Terallo | OPEN
​

Poking around on Rakata Prime, they hadn't expected to come across a mysterious and mystical portal. Not being of the Force sensitive variety, she was skeptical. Something about speaking a truth and entering a land beyond imagination. In her opinion, it seemed the Jester just wanted to kidnap people. With the refugees from the Core scattered about, trafficking was an issue and while a teenager, she wasn't completely oblivious to these things.

Lysander seemed to find them believable, the Envoy. Could be a cult for all they knew. Yet Lsyander was basically in a cult so perhaps he couldn't see the forest through the trees. So she was doing this. Speaking a truth to a weird Jester to obtain entry.

"I'm worried my adoptive parents are going to get rid of me."

There, deepest darkest secret should keep the Jester happy. The purple portal seemed alive and she cautiously crossed the threshold. It wasn't what she expected ; a tent full of wares that smelt faintly of some type of incense. An interesting place. An odd place. Even odder they were transported to this tent.

Smoothing her skirt as she exited, brows furrowing, gwaking to the point she nearly ran into the back of the blonde teenager that entered the portal before her.

"Lysander, what kind of Jedi voodoo nonsense is this?"

Hearing a voice, her head craned around the boy, looking for the origin for the sound.

 

[Tamsin Graves]

Theme: Que Sera, Sera
Tags: OPEN

Tamsin was back on Canto Bight; she sat at the steam pools reflecting on the past year and how her life had changed so drastically. It was nothing like she had imagined, just a slave girl from Tatooine. Now a sith, a group that often did the enslaving of the masses. All she had seen was so drastically different from anything she had even imagined in Blougah's slave pits.

A smile crossed her face as she looked out over the steam pools of this paradise. She glanced to the rock where Kaila Irons had first started teaching her of the force and the sith. It really wasn't too long ago but even now it seemed like a distant memory. Yet it was a memory she never wanted to let go of, she found her family in Kaila that day. Her sister and friend which was so much more than master.

She had never felt that way, so dedicated to someone she was willing to die for them. She wondered even if their family was only bound by a blood oath if that was how other families were. Perhaps she would never know the truth of her biological family and that question would remain a mystery.

As she sat there thinking on the great times she had, had with her sister her dark eyes went wide as a portal opened up before her in the middle of the steam pool. Curiously she staired into it, the edges surrounded by a violet hue and with a dark sky shining through. She knew she shouldn't but something in it called to her, and she began to wade out into he water towards it.

As she got closer, she could see and nearly endless plain of striking endless beauty. As she floated closer to it the call got louder for her to see what was beyond. It was long before her bare feet touched the ground beyond the portal. At her feet countless golden lotus petals. Even though she was just in a steam pool of water she was now completely dry and in once more in that white slave dress she had dressed in the day she was saved.

She looked up at the twinkling stars above that seemed to dance not staying in one place. Then she took a few steps further into this mystical weird land not aware she had stepped into the nether. Yet something deeper in called to her and she began to move into the lands of the dead.

 

[BB-4001X]

Accompanying Liin Terallo
Nearby Tags: Collector Persephone Dashiell Judah Lesan

The invitation to New Cov was as unanticipated as it had been welcome.

Already, the connection to the Commerce Guild seemed to providing the connectivity that the Cooperative had hoped it would. The meeting itself was not remarkable, a discussion to explore options for increasing trade volume, but the fact that they were happening at all was remarkable in itself.

Then the meeting was derailed by... something.

What that something was remained to be seen. However, when Liin brought up Matsu Ike the afro-headed droid shook his head. "This sequence of events would appear inconsistent with the Grandmaster's prior displays," the small droid observed flatly.

Director Terallo already knew that the droids were curious, so the invitation to accompany her to explore the strange sequence of events was readily accepted. Still, the jester's antics and words raised an eyebrow as the small droid followed the woman to what seemed a portal of some kind.

A secret?

An interesting request. "I'm an assassin droid," the droid stated flatly. He didn't hide that he was a Type 4 droid, but the specific variety of Type 4 droid was not something that he broadcast. "My construction was commissioned by the Crymorah Syndicate."

With that, he stepped through and felt the now familiar sensation of his logic processors being thrown off by the presentation of having changed locations in an insignificant span of time and distance. An internal diagnostic confirmed that the droid had lost the connection to the Cooperative com-net. Wherever this was, it was not a location that had HoloNet service.

A glance to his right confirmed that Liin was there, so it appeared that they had, indeed, crossed over together. "We do not appear to be on New Cov," the droid observed dryly.

A purple tent was not far. And the droid saw what seemed at least one other individual near it. "Perhaps we will find some answers there," the droid noted, before analyzing Liin's posture and behavior.

"As well as a suitable environment for warming you."

 

[Lissa]

Location: New Alderaan -> Diavolin
Tag: Iellax Pellis

“Are you sure that we should do this?” Lissa asked in a slightly anxious tone as she took in the portal and the festively-attired jester standing in front of them, before directing a sidelong glance towards Iellax. After discovering the portal and the waiting jester a couple hours before, the two women had returned, having equipped themselves with weapons and protective attire. However, instead of wearing the standard Verum armor, they had elected to don protective bodysuits due to the fact that this was not an official mission.

Rather, it was an excursion into the unknown.

“Just one secret from each of you, is all I require. Large or small. But it must be true.” The jester repeated, before giving a mischievous chuckle. “And once the price is paid, you will be allowed to enter! Within you will find a land of mirages, shattered secrets, and dark dreams...” The envoy spoke in an ominous tone.

“Oh, and holiday cheer too, of course!” The jester added, before once more breaking out into a fit of giggles, bouncing up and down as he did.

In spite of her misgivings, Lissa stepped towards the jester first, her steps wary, yet trusting. She took a deep breath then, before collapsing her helmet, thereby fully exposing her sable-toned features to the bouncing jester.

“I—”

“Wait! Patience, dear. A secret will always remain just that. A secret.” Suddenly, the air shifted, forming a transparent barrier that separated Lissa and the jester from Iellax. The clone realized immediately that it blocked all sound from entering or leaving, thereby forming a perfect soundproof seal. Turning back around, she saw that it blurred Iellax’s figure as well, preventing either of the women from making out any precise details or movements regarding the other.

“Now, the price of admission, dear. And take your time, if you so desire it. Patience is a virtue.”

“I pretend to like eating Gruuvan Shaal Kebabs...” Lissa swallowed and frowned. “For Iellax, because it’s her favorite food and she loves making it. But I really, really don’t like eating them. I throw them away if she isn’t looking. They make me feel bloated.” She took a deep breath then, closing her eyes in relief as if a weight had just been lifted from her shoulders.

The jester in turn mimed the action of a credit chip being slotted into a card reader, mimicking characteristic beeps and clicks as the chip was processed, before giving a conclusive beep.

“Payment approved!” With that, the jester stepped aside and extended a hand towards the portal, offering the clone passage inside.

After a moment’s pause, Lissa stepped forward and disappeared through the portal.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Pulsiva Bodysuit Mk. II
  
  • Arms
    
    • Verum Gauntlet Lightsaber - R
    • Verum Gauntlet Lightsaber - L
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Replacement for B-11 “Gretis” Class Combat Boots
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
  • Utility
    
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
  • Helmet
    
    • FAE/U-06 Collapsing Mirrors
  • Accouterments
    
    • Verum Cloak
• Verum Masking Ring
• Spirit Anchor - Earrings

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Tags: Persephone Dashiell Collector Liin Terallo BB-4001X Judah Lesan ​

Stepping through the other side, he scanned the area with an air of nonchalance. Everything was surreal, and his mind pondered the possibility that this could all be some trick, or even a twisted version of reality. But despite the strangeness of their surroundings that would have surely sent some into panic, the teen would remain nonchalant, his emerald orbs radiating with youthful curiosity.

To him, all of this was a puzzle waiting to be solved.

The boy’s lips curled into a slight smirk at her comment. “Looks more like some kind of Sith trickery if you ask me,” he stated. He turned and stepped forward in a relaxed stance. His arms were crossed as though they were at the entrance of another carnival rather than inside some tent filled with goods. “What do you think is going on here,” he mused. His voice lowered a notch while leaning closer. “Do you think that guy knows something about the portal? And why do you think he wants to know what we're searching for?”

Lysander ran a hand through his blonde hair, flicking his gaze back to the mysterious figure. With a determined stride, he decided to take the initiative. He then approached the man sitting on the pillows. Having seen shows on the HoloNet with similar situations where the conversation began with drinks, the Padawan figured he knew just how to get things started. “Excuse me,” he began, his voice soft but firm. "Both of us would like some Jawa Juice.” He gestured to both himself and Persie.

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

THE PURPLE TENT

"Sith. Jedi. Magician. There's no difference."

It was something they didn't agree on. Lysander von Ascania was focused on being a Jedi and thus embedded in their philosophy. Persephone didn't see a right or wrong, a result of her family. Business didn't have borders, after all. She was learning the importance of having a relationship with various different governments at once.

His voice lowered a notch while leaning closer. “Do you think that guy knows something about the portal? And why do you think he wants to know what we're searching for?”

"I think" Persephone whispered back "He wants to know what we are searching for in order to make credits. How else would this tent stay in business?"

They moved deeper into the tent, a little too quick for her liking. There was so much to look at it would require a slow snails pace to see everything. Not that they should be lingering in her opinion. This tent, mercentile?, was other worldly and staying too long was making her uneasy.

Listening to Lysander order for the both of them, she shook her head. Jawa juice was alcoholic, or so she had been told. No need to get grounded again.

"Blumfruit juice for me. Thank you."

Hand went into her pocket, procuring her credcard to pay.

Collector | BB-4001X | Liin Terallo | Judah Lesan ​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Malsheem, Jen'ari Tsosûtura...

It was normal right up until that singular moment.

Darth Prazutis, Dark Lord of the Kainate sat atop the colossal throne pressed into the back of the massive chamber. A pair of Crownguard in their ceremonial crimson robes stood at either side of the bridge connecting the throne to the rest of the chamber. A holoprojector built into the throne projected over a dozen screens hovering in front of the Dark Lord. Streams of data, reports, video footage flowed in a flood all at once projecting data brought at his behest, everything from matters aboard the worldcraft to ventures abroad. It was from this room that he ruled as one of the Supreme Dyarchs of the Kainate, itself a symbol of the status he carried. All at once he absorbed the data like a sponge taking it in with a scrutinizing gaze, perusing what was important, what immediately required his attention while tucking away what would be important later, and what was valuable. ​

​

Despite his distance from the dark, twisted Mother Maena it was became the largest part of who he was. The world transfigured his very body, his very soul and left its mark. It was something he carried with him always and even here so far removed from it, he sat representing her to the Easterners abroad. It was only through that way that he felt what was about to happen before it did, the hyper alertness of that world was burned deep, he could feel it like a cold caress up his neck. The Crownguard reacted at the same time as it happened roughly a second later. A shimmering blue rift in reality tore open in front of him. Translucent arcs of blue energy tore into existence dancing around the edges of this open slit. The portals harmonious resonance cast subtle vibrations into the deck below. ​

​

The guards robes fell revealing suits of black plate as they brought up their concussion lances, pressing forward to block the portal and whatever may emerge from it from their sovereign. A deep thrumming alarm rang out through the room. In mere moments two squads of Crownguard emerged from either side of the room out of hidden doors, fully surrounding the rift weapons ready. A pair of towering BHK-01 Hunter Killer's stood on either side of the rift, tails swaying hungrily through the air. The glowing screens vanished from in front of him as the Dark Lord raised a hand, the radiant storm of malevolent energies growing deeper. The shadows danced from the walls and came alive, pressing against the radiance of the portals light. Its touch disrupted the resonance, and he saw it flicker as his storm pressed down on it. The Mortarch was intimately familiar with death and the realms of the Netherworld, but this felt like something different, something that wasn't readily recognizable and that intrigued him.​

​

Then came the whispers.​

​

While his mind was an ironclad vault shielded from the touch of telepathic attacks, he could hear it struggling to convey a message. The message played ceaselessly regardless of whether or not it could reach him: Tell me a secret. Secrets were precious. The flow of precious information was dangerous and not something he was ever accustomed to doing readily. In fact, it was something he was known for not doing for he was the Lord of Lies, a master of deception who shrouded everything in the fog of obscurity. The sheer amount of people he killed to conceal secrets would puzzle the greatest minds; death was a certain way to ensure secrets were kept. That message alone was nearly enough to outright refuse pushing further and he raised his left hand pulling his fingers closer together. The portal flickered more. It wouldn't take much to slam it shut and ignore whatever this was. Vesta. Once more the thought of his late daughter crossed his mind, he could see faintly see her visage moving among the Crownguard, who stood like statues ready to annihilate anything that emerged.​

​

The many possibilities crossed through his mind and even the faintest bit of hope, that was enough to convince him something had to be done. The Dark Lord raised his hand in the air and silenced the alarm klaxons, standing. The robes of black and crimson flowed with him, dim runes glowing across their surface as he walked purposely down the steps of his throne. "Seal the room, then the High Palace full readiness. Raise the readiness level of all forces as a precaution. I will investigate this anomaly." Prazutis ordered stopping a foot away from the portal, he leaned in closer to the rift and spoke with little more than a whisper "I was a slave once." It was one of the deepest secrets he carried, one only two people in the galaxy at large were privy to. The portal seemed to spark and its resonance deepened significantly, glowing brighter. The arms of the hulking droids flared outward, hilts pointing towards the rifts as a response to the change. Uncertainty would never hold him back.​

​

The Dark Lord pressed through the portal to what was beyond.​

​

Srina Talon ​

​

​

 

[Collector]

​

Tag: Judah Lesan | Lysander von Ascania | Liin Terallo | Persephone Dashiell | BB-4001X | Open

True to BB-4001X 's theory, those who entered the tent would find it completely temperature-controlled upon crossing the threshold, even though the nature of such structures practically demanded there be a draft. A likely delight for Liin Terallo though she would find that the tent's comforts would not extend beyond its threshold. Gentle music could be heard from unknown sources.

An amused chuckle reverberated in his marred and tattooed chest as the Collector overheard the considerations of Lysander von Ascania and Persephone Dashiell . Jedi, Sith, it made little difference to the man of many purples. What mattered to him was what stories, memories, trinkets he could collect from each and every one of them. He blinked once, twice, as the one glittering in Force sensitivity first approached with his drink order. If not for the naivety of youth, he might've even taken offense in such a breach of hospitality. This was no food stand, after all. He was broken out of the dumbfounded stupor by the other, gifted in other ways beyond the Force, as she retrieved a card he could only assume was meant for payment.

"My dear, I haven't dealt in credits longer than both of you combined would remember," a more pronounced chuckle sounded as he waved away the credcard. With that same gesture, two cups rose from a nearby cabinet, setting themselves on a small coffee table amongst the many cushions available for sitting, filled to a respectable height with liquids appropriate to the two's requests. "Nor do I deal in food and beverage. No, these are mere refreshments for making business more comfortable. And dare I say, I find it unlikely you found yourselves in my shop for mere drinks."

He took another sip of his drink, savoring the slight burn that melded with the complexity of flavors from his personal concoction, casting a ruby glance over at the others that inspected his wears. "Each item has its story," he called out to Judah Lesan . "Then again, don't we all. Do come join us. What sort of host would I be if I did not offer up hospitality."

His gaze flickered to Liin Terallo and BB-4001X upon their entering as well. "Something warm for you, I assume?" He asked of Liin, more cups already rising from the cabinet. He then addressed BB-4001X. "As for you, hmm, now that's a mystery."