Templestone Congregation [TheSithOrder]

[Figure In White]

So many people, and so few of them would ever listen to his message. He couldn't help but wonder what the point of being here was, but then he was reminded that it was simply to serve his place as a member of the Order. For now it would behoove him to keep up appearances and not draw too much attention to the Reformation. Most of those here would find it unsavory, and would no doubt attempt to slaughter him, accusing him of heresy. Foolish of them. After all, it was a position of power that he had within the Reformation, considering it was his brainchild. Ultimately the goal was a position of power over the entire galaxy. Was that not the Sith way?

It was, but he doubted the others, most of them, would be wise enough to see it that way.

[member="Grimoire"] acknowledged him with a nod which he returned in kind. She was a curious one. He barely knew her, but seeing what she'd done here was enough to pique his interest, even if the place wasn't overall to his liking. It took skill to establish something such as this, and it took a lot of time along with it. In that regard it was quite impressive. The woman turned her attention back to him after eyeing up [member="Niysha"] and smiled, which caused him to loft a brow in curiosity. Clearly there was something being assumed here, but he chose to leave it be. If what was being assumed was what he suspected, it was better for him anyway. The less they knew about him and Teynara the better.

Among the group was a taller man he didn't recognize but he could feel the mans energy, could tell he was something more than most of those gathered. Even [member="Darth Carnifex"] paled in comparison to [member="Tirdarius"], but only those who looked would see that. Leos didn't let his eyes linger, turning them instead to [member="Mala Arar"] as she approached Niysha and spoke with her. Soon she was followed by [member="Kadri Ughad"], who seemed more interested in speaking with Mala. He shook his head.

"You approach where I sit with my apprentice and do not even acknowledge her Master? Rather rude, don't you think?"

He really didn't care, but appearances and all that. Had to do it. Plus it would let him break into the conversation, though [member="Calina Ovmar"] appeared and he turned his gaze to her.

"Calina. Good to see you."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

Once, Tirdarius might have found himself offended that his name was unknown to an acolyte such as this one, but such a time was long past. I have hardly made a career out of standing where others might see me, he mused in reflective repose, his outward expression offering little insight into the thoughts that ran through his mind. In contrast, the younger man's musings were all over his face: a curious mixture of disdain, fear and barely-concealed contempt, both for the Sith Lord and for those gathered within the hall.

Ah, naturally. One of those Acolytes...

He'd met many of them, killed a few here and there: those who revelled in the teachings of the Sith, drew power from them, and thus assumed themselves superior. Scratching the surface to reveal a token ability, yet believing themselves capable of moving mountains. That alone proved that this one had yet to undergo the more rigorous training the Sith would demand: that little insight that spurred his arrogance would be insufficient to protect him against a true breaking. And arrogance must be earned, fear conquered, anger tempered, disdain controlled. This one had yet to experience these things: he was at that precarious stage where he might prove ready to be broken in a productive fashion, or where he might overstep the mark and prove himself unworthy of the Sith. And therefore fit only for death.

"To some, I am called Tirdarius," he offered, returning the boy's question with an unblinking gaze, grey eyes staring appraisingly, even as the Sith ignored the outstretched hand. Crude, to imagine we might clasp hands in greeting. Such was not their way. "Most would properly address me as 'My Lord'," he added thoughtfully, a faint smile of amusement on his lips. "And remember: it is the wildest of dogs that is likely to bite you. See that you don't provoke any, should you wish to survive the night."

He inclined his head in a half-bow, not respect shared among equals, but an ironic salute to one that might not live too much longer. Such an attitude from an Acolyte will draw the hostility of peers and superiors alike, if it is not tempered by self-control. At least there was already a candidate for the first corpse of the evening. His undoubtedly would not be the last, but a Sith gathering without a few deaths was oftentimes considered a tedious affair, one where passions were left too restrained and few challenges were offered.

He strode away from the Acolyte, his steps turning him towards a larger gathering, one swirling with barely-controlled energies, a lethality softly concealed beneath a shadow. [member="Darth Carnifex"] stood with their hostess, and several others had gathered around the Mirialan and the girl continuing to look at him with a mixture of fear and adoration. Were it not a normal component of the Master/Apprentice relationship, you would almost think them lovers, he thought sardonically.

The two had been joined by many others: a young blonde woman, her hair cut short in austere fashion, wearing a modest dark dress that accentuation her figure; a masked figure that once more demonstrated that absurd tendency of some Sith to conceal their face in company that could sense past it; a second blonde, younger than the first, her hair longer, the dress more revealing. Such strange things we all wear in common company. He approached just as the Mirialan sought to berate the younger of those two blonde women, Tirdarius' lip curling in derision at the curt tone.

"If another fails to acknowledge a Master, perhaps it is his failure, rather than theirs," he remarked cooly, grey eyes carefully marking each of them in dispassionate fashion, the half-curled lip remaining still in place, offering what little insight into his emotions that he cared to project openly. "Sitting there, one might imagine you a timid Acolyte, not wishing to draw attention to himself," he added, faintly amused at the thought. And we are Sith: we stand above discourtesy and frivolous social rules when among our own kind. "Perhaps in this respect, the girl beside you stands as the Master, enjoying the party without seeking to draw offense where none was undoubtedly intended." A predatory grin flashed from that stern face, mirrored only in his eyes. "When Sith gather, the challenge of rudeness tends to be answered in far more dangerous fashion."

[member="Darth Ignus"] | [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Niysha"] | [member="Kadri Ughad"] | [member="Mala Arar"] | [member="Drew Diysent"]​

 

[Darth Imperia]

Mala, for a brief moment, felt much like she often did when she was younger. Like she was out of her depth, butting in on conversations and activities that a youngling like herself had no business even thinking about.

But that was rather silly of her, wasn't it? She was Sith, surrounded by Sith, and this drop of rain in the vortex swirling around her was nothing to fear, compared even to her fellow Acolyte. Her momentary hesitance waned - although she stayed cautious. There was no reason to make enemies of the powerful.

"Kadri Ughad. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Mala Arar, Acolyte of the Sith and Apprentice to Darth Vitium." When she spoke, she stated her titles with as much pride and confidence as Kadri stated his. Unlike a certain other Acolyte at this party, however, she held no illusions that she was the equal of Tirdarius, or Ignus, or even Niysha; she was a weakling in comparison, but she had the good sense not to overcompensate for it. The young Acolyte ignored the man's hardly veiled insults and his obviously pandering compliments - not that she didn't appreciate a bit of either, but now wasn't the time. Besides, she had more important things to worry about.

Like a potentially angry, far more powerful Sith.

Mala turned to face Darth Ignus, and was about to utter an apology, when Tirdarius swooped in, apparently having finished reprimanding the ignoble little whelp lurking at the edges of the party.

It was disgustingly sentimental, and probably a sign of weakness, but Mala had to admit that she felt a certain sense of affection for her fellow Coruscanti as he came to her defense. She'd hesitate to call him an ally, but he did seem to understand her - she'd meant no offense to Ignus when she approached his apprentice. She waited until the elderly Sith Lord had finished speaking to once more address the Mirialan, dipping her head and wearing an apologetic smile on her face.

"He is quite correct, my Lord - I meant no offense. In fact, I meant quite the opposite. You seemed content to remain with your thoughts, and I thought it impolite to disturb you."

[member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Darth Ignus"] | [member="Niysha"] | [member="Kadri Ughad"]

 

[Figure In White]

Leos mentally smirked at what [member="Tirdarius"] had to say, but didn't immediately respond. After all, [member="Mala Arar"] had been about to speak to him, and he wanted to hear what she had to say. When she spoke up, it was as he figured. There were a few different types of acolytes. There were the bruisers, who just liked to hit things and people. There were the gods, who thought they were top brass just because they could touch the Force. There were the wallflowers, who didn't really converse with others and preferred to study alone. Then there were the social butterflys, who usually meant no offense, but were so interested in talking that they sometimes ignored formalities. These types tended to get into trouble with their masters and others outside of social functions.

This girl was the latter. He hadn't honestly cared that she hadn't spoken to him, mostly because she'd been right: he'd been paying attention to other things and not her approach. In fact, her answer brought a chuckle from him.

"It's quite alright. I just wanted to see how you'd respond, really. Too many people apologize for everything. We're Sith. We don't apologize unless absolutely necessary and we don't cow ourselves to everyone either."

That was a little jab at [member="Niysha"] for the times when she was apologetic and always doing what he asked without question. He knew she was mostly afraid of him because of what he could do to her. He'd never do it, but he also wasn't going to tell her that. Fear was good. As he'd taught her before, she could use fear, hatred, and other emotions to fuel her strength in the Force. He didn't want her bowing and scraping to him forever. She'd never grow into who she could if she always did that. Considering he saw great potential in her, he was going to have to find a way to make her not fear him without telling her the truth.

"I am Darth Ignus, for future reference, but you can go back to your conversation now."

He smiled and turned his attention to the male with the Coruscanti tone of voice. He'd been to Coruscant once before the One Sith lost it. Busy place.

"Hardly a negative thing, especially if that Master did not want to be noticed. And if you saw me as a timid acolyte, but I wasn't, would that be a bad thing? Appearances can be quite deceiving, after all. Just as a question and tone of voice can be deceptive as well. I am really not all offended by her not acknowledging me. After all, she was right, my mind was elsewhere and I'd have been more upset if she'd disturbed my thoughts. Point being: conclusions are easy to jump to, aren't they?"

 

[Enyo Typhos]

The Silver Jedi had retreated in ignominy, now the Sith congregated in Templestone, upon the unholy world of Krayiss, to celebrate the successful 'liberation' of the Stygian Caldera. There was, of course, always the chance that such a soiree could easily turn bloody.


Enyo Typhos arrived late. Her sister was a social butterfly who thrived at parties and social gatherings, especially if she was the centre of attention. She would have sauntered into the grand hall with her head held high and projecting the aura of someone who thought she owned the place. Of course, the Lady Kerrigan would never have been seen at a Sith soiree. That was one reason to attend, though Enyo did not subscribe to the Code of the Sith. But Archangel had contributed to the Sith Intifada. The clone bore the scars of the Korriban City massacre.


Vicious lines were etched into her face, and when she walked, the hum of gears and servos could be heard. She was more machine than human than Siobhan had ever been. Where flesh had failed when hellfire rained down upon Korriban, metal had replaced it. Thusly, Archangel endowed her with new arms and legs, whether she wanted it or not. "I assume the soiree is up there. I'm not late, am I?" she asked some minion who happened to be walking down the stairs. Even without cybernetics, her voice still sounded a bit mechanical.


"No, Lady. Go right up. Many esteemed Sith have already...," the elegantly dressed servant paled when Enyo lowered her hood, revealing her face. "Gods... Kerrigan...sound the...," one elegantly dressed servant with more fear than brains exclaimed upon seeing her, before realising his error when cold, piercing brown eyes bore into him. "I am sorry, Lady Typhos...I mistook you for..."


"Bleat at me no longer, and get out of my sight." To say that the clone's voice was chilly was like saying that Hoth might be a little bit cold and so the servant quickly scurried away. Being more modest than her sister, Enyo was dressed in drab dark colours. Archangel had raised her in a monastic way, so a covering robe sufficed for her. There was no jewellry on her person. Her boots made little noise as she ascended the steps towards the grand hall. Powerful dark energies could be felt emanating from inside it, with all the ferocity and subtlety of a storm.

 

[Darth Grimoire]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qS5-QmkKzJQ

[member="Khaldun"]
The Sith pure-blood was an interesting one indeed. She had thought them all extinct. Stories do tell of the sporadic relic in the old days of the Old Republic, but, one alive this far down in the centuries, was a special case. Grimoire heard the pure-blood's compliment and nodded with a glance.

"I thank you." Grimoire said as she gestured for him to follow her to a protruding balcony. "This city was once the outpost of a Primeval Warlord. The Warlord is long gone, but, his people and those who remain here since the end of the Old Sith Empire of Moridin and my Mother, held to their dark heritage...I merely liberated them from obscurity and decay."

Grimoire stopped and faced the pure-blood, "I am but a vessel of the will of the kindred who are gathered here."

She smiled and then turned, as she did so, her old uncle returned her earlier greeting.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

Carnifex mentioning Grimoire's mother made her stop in her tracks. For a moment she thought of her, the plae faced decaying Sith sorceress of old. And then, the vision of her new master, [member="Anaya Fen"], bruned over her mind. Grimoire's face faded into a cold stare.

"No doubt she would have found a way to torture me over the details of my failures." Grimoire said, before suddenly regaining some composure of her earlier regal self. "But, it pleases me that you would think so, uncle."

"Come, the view of Templestone from my balcony is something to behold." Grimoire beckoned. Together the group venture in a large balcony that mirror the apse that it protruded from. Beyond the railings the bright lights of the urban ring of Templestone glittered like the stars in the sky. The Countess had declared the evening a city-wide celebration. Citizens were free to spread across the streets, vendors erected promenades of goods and dark merriment was spread across the city.

Above the kraujasisqas moved and shrieked. As Grimiore stood beside the railing, she heard the cry of her personal beast, Yarmis. Grimoire glared at the two Sith and smiled a bewitching grin. She turned away from them and stretched out one of her hands.

"Yarmis tapti vas!" In that instant a large shadow flew past the group, blowing an impact of air across them sending their clothes in a flutter. The shadow then rose up and only when it suddenly landed onto the railing did the beast reveal its true appearance. A massive primate formed bat with enormous membranous red wings rested beside Grimoire.

Grimoire reached out and caressed the kraujasisqa across its mane and the beast responded to its master's touch with a hissing purr. Grimoire's sith eyes flicked to the two Sith, "I call her Yarmis, she is the omega-matria of the swarm that have called the top of my tower their nest. Beautifully dark creatures, I have taken a liking to them. And it seems they have to me."

[member="Calina Ovmar"]
Out of the corner of her eye, however, Grimoire spotted a face she hadn't considered would ever make an appearance. Calina Ovmar, the daughter of her master, had arrived. Grimoire's brow rose in surprise. The beautifully dressed Sith Knight sauntered in haughty pretence over to Grimoire to deliver her greeting.

"Not at all Calina." Grimoire began in a sinister tone to her hissing. Grimoire's eyes locked with Calina's and though her words delivered kinship and kindred diplomacy, her eyes burned like ends of lightsabers circling Calina looking for weakness to twist and wound.

Grimoire continued to pet her beast and smile a fang smirk. "In fact you are just in time."

"I am relieved that you have managed to escape the grasp of those barbarians on Mandalore. It would have been such a waste to see you rot away in a such a place." hissed Grimoire, as she spotted [member="Darth Ignus"] and his companion [member="Niysha"].

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Calina watched the polite argument rising between Lord [member="Tirdarius"] and [member="Darth Ignus"], with amusement. It was common, or so she was led to believe, for such bickerings to be a test. Each Lord pushing the boundaries of the other simply to see what made them tick. She'd suffered a lifetime of such with her mother. [member="Grimoire"] drew her attention back to her and smile spread across her face, one that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Liar.

"Well, I could hardly miss all this now, could I? I'm sure this gathering will be all people can talk about for weeks to come. A pity your mother isn't here to see it, though I'm sure the Lady Anaya is doing a good job filling in."

Bite me, she thought.

"Come to think of my dear mother, I've not seen her yet. You haven't tucked her away have you? I'd hate for something to come between mother and daughter, it's such a powerful bond, after all."

A newcomer to the party caught her eye and she turned her eyes to watch her meander into the room. More machine than human she might have been, but the likeness to Siobhan Kerrigan was uncanny. Of course, Calina had never met the Dark Jedi herself, but there was enough coverage on the holonet for even the simplest of people to know who she was.

"Does Siobhan Kerrigan have a sister?" she asked, forgetting that she was supposed to be playing nastily with Grimoire.

[member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Mala Arar"] [member="Niysha"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Khaldun"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Calina Ovmar"]


Thusly, Enyo entered the grand hall, which was immersed in pue Sithiness due to the significant number of Sith Masters, Knights, Acolytes and so on that had seen fit to congregate in it. So far, no one had been beheaded or fried with Force Lightning. Maybe there'd be a blood sacrifice later on. Surely, the Jedi could spare an annoying Padawan for a sacred Sithian rite!


Anyhow, various conversations were taking place, then a golden-maned Sith lady reacted to her presence. Naturally Enyo just had to respond to this by making remarkably poorly veiled attempts to seduce the beauty by using crude flirtation lines stolen from cheesy movies. Oh, wait, firstly this is supposed to be a serious quality post, not a parody, and secondly Enyo was not the oversexed, egocentric one. No, she was the prudish, broody one. Boy, there was a lot of a brooding.


So Enyo locked eyes with the young Sith. She recalled her mentioning the name Anaya. Anaya as in Anaya Fen? Moira Skaldi had briefed her about the Chaos Queen, with whom Archangel had often done business in the past.


"She does. I'm just not obsessed with filling the pages of the tabloids unlike her. We don't socialise. If we did, there'd be bloodshed," Enyo replied in a deadpan tone. She saw no reason to correct the Sith about her relations to Siobhan.


For in her own mind she was Kerrigan's sister, not just her copy. Something more than a warm body that had been created purely to satisfy Siobhan's desire to live forever and retain her youth. "I'm Enyo Typhos, and you are?" The cyborg scrutinised the blonde.

 

[Swafty]

THEY DO NOT KNOW ME!

Being treated in such a way sparked a great anger into him, the old bag did not treat him the right way, I am smarter then him and I am better then him! I can make this work, I can make this work! Maybe if I make myself look like the rest of these idiotic dogs that I will be saw as one, and then, and then I can be trusted! And then I can remove them out of this, I can damage how they are being seen, I can charm them to stop getting in my way, I can. No, that is a stupid idea, I do not want to waste time I will fix all of this, so what that one old bag did not respect him? That old "dog" will die soon anyways! There are so many other people here I can use my charms on, ones that matter unlike these little idiots, I am bigger then them, I am smarter
then them, I am better then them, how dare he thinks he knows what he is doing by treating me like that? He does not know me!

He stood there, a obvious red, angry look on his face as he looked around the room, he did not know these people, they did not know him. He looked around, breathing heavily with his angry look as he looked around the area, spotting some others. He would watch them not hiding the fact that he is watching them, these idiots will just get killed off soon, why is he trying to impress them anyway?! He cuffed his hands over his face and slowly rubbed them down his face and let out one deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He can do this, he can just charm some other higher up, he is more charming and better looking then the rest of these people anyway!

He put on a fake, attractive smile as he brushed his long hair back as he made himself seem more attractive as he soon walked confidently with his back straight as he soon set his sights to another one that he can impress, he walked to the sidelines to attempt to make one of them go over to him, he can surely do this, it is simple! Even if it is a newblood like me, I can charm them to do something for my reputation! He leaned back, with a fake smile with his long hair set to the back of him. As some walked past him he did short greetings to them, putting on a more confident, kinder sounding voice.

 

[Darth Imperia]

Mala gave it a few hours at most before someone killed [member="Drew Diysent"]. Acting less like a Sith and more like a petulant child, his mental state had degraded consistently since the night began, as far as Mala could tell - and now he was attempting to hide his mental breakdown behind a facade of charm and charisma.

Mala couldn't help but chuckle as she sipped her wine. If an inexperienced Acolyte like herself could see through his facade, there was no way in the Galaxy that anyone even remotely powerful would fall for it. Still...maybe she could have some fun with him before someone reduced him to a stain on the ground. First, however, she needed to excuse herself from her current conversation. She did so with a small bow to her superiors - [member="Darth Ignus"] and [member="Tirdarius"] - and a small nod of the head in the direction of [member="Niysha"]. Then, with a wicked grin on her face, Mala sauntered over to Drew's position, sipping wine casually as she moved.

The first thing her fellow Acolyte might notice about her, assuming he could even use his Force Senses, was that there was something...wrong with her. Whilst she did appear a bit 'bigger' in the Force than one might expect, she was not exceptionally powerful for an Acolyte. No, what was strange about Mala's presence in the force was that it was...chilling. It portrayed less one driven by rage and lust and passion - although those were certainly there - and more an entity driven by need. The need for what was not clear, but it was displayed in her every motion, her every breath and step.

The atypical Acolyte stopped directly beside Drew, a cold smile on her face as she whispered to him.

"You're going to die tonight. You'll be chewed up and spat out by every real Sith in this room. Unless you run, little boy. Run back home and forget this little game of yours where you pretend to be Sith."

 

[H3xle]

<As Daken Karr>

The acolyte known as Daken Karr kept to himself at the edge of the crowd, moving slowly around the crowd slowly. He wore a dark suit, sturdy boots shined well, with flat front slacks, and a suit jacket with a mandarin collar. His suit was trimmed in crimson, with gold buttons containing Ancient Sith writing in crimson. His hands were clothed in black gloves, tucked into the sleeves of his suit jacket. In his left hand he held a goblet of deep red wine, which he sipped sparingly as he moved around the room.

His thoughts were on his goals, for the moment. He needed to become more powerful in the Force, and his solution to that stood assembled in this room. He had always known that his previous mentor was fairly weak in the Force. He'd been able to mentor Daken in low level telekinesis, meditation, and basic Force sensing techniques. His true area of expertise had been in the history of the galaxy. He'd taught Daken about the ancient wars between the Sith and the Jedi. His mentor had been fairly neutral in the Force, but Daken was drawn to the ideals of the Sith. Gathering power to oneself to achieve one's goals.

He now knew that his strength in the Dark Side was not unique, and that there were people far more schooled in the ways of the Force. Those people, were here. They each had their own goals, and he knew that before he would be able to achieve his goals, he would have to assist them in theirs. That was acceptable to Daken, he knew the value of patience.

For the moment, he was here, he was listening and learning what he could. Eventually he would be ascendant.

 

[Khaldun]

After hearing the hostess word's Khaldun when silent, a frown shown on his face for a minute. He thought on her words "a vessel for the sith's will", for some reason these word's left a bad taste in his mouth. Why was he dissatisfied? The words them self were not the cause but the meaning he interpreted was. The sith were not servants they were the pinnacle of power that a sith with power would lobby to lessers were an insult to the sith as a whole. He decided it was time to leave her company he had stayed for too long anyway.

Khaldun spoke to the hostess "My lady I'm afraid I must leave you company though you have given me much to think about." He gave a slight nod as he stepped away going toward a group of young sith. The party by now was in full swing and some sith were all ready to fight, hormones and all he thought. One acolyte was a mess of emotions, he was trying his best to hid it but anyone could sense it if they looked at him. Another was stoking the fire in the first acolyte whatever she said Khaldun didn't hear as he approached them. The raw emotions drawing him in he spoke up "well I have been waiting for you I felt you from across the room." Khaldun put a hand on [member="Drew Diysent"] shoulder trying to defuse whatever the other had said to him by distracting him. "come this way I have found a wine you must try" without hearing a word of complaint he pulled the sith away to a table as he told a servant to bring some wine.

[member="Nyk"] [member="Mala Arar"] [member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Calina Ovmar"] [member="Grimoire"] [member="Darth Ignus"] [member="Tirdarius"]

 

[Swafty]

As he saw the woman speaked to him, his eyes sparked with anger, this day can not get worst, THIS DAY CAN NOT EVEN GET WORST! How dare she say that?! I will kill her, I will gut her! She will not make it out of here breathing! I am smarter then her, how dare she even walk up to me?! She will die, no she will suffer something worse then death that it, I will get under her skin, make her regret here own existance, I will break her mind and make everything become a living hell.

With a fury of dark thoughts going through his head, he could not control himself as he was planning to attack the woman on the spot, but he felt a shoulder, he turned with a angry look on his face in a mad, crazed action. But he saw one of the higher ups, this makes his eyes droop downward, almost in fear as he realized how bad this day really was. He said nervously to @Khaldum "O-of course!" as he followed before turning back to [member="Mala Arar"] and putting his left thumb to the right end of his throat, and slowly moving it across to the other side as a threat.

As he went along with [member="Khaldun"] and took his seat, still confused with a fury of emotions as he looked down, some of his hair getting in his face as he looked up and said in a more calm voice, "What is it my lord?" As he said this his eyes shifted to the servant, watching the servant with his eyes as he walked away to "bring some wine" but then his eyes shifted back to the sith before brushing some of his hair back and looking him in the eyes.

 

[Judah Lesan]

Xander was late, fashionably so. He never seemed to be on time anymore, either being early, or late enough that it made him look bad. Call it being disinterested in the affairs of the galaxy, or life in general. The assassin which thrived on having some kind of mission rarely made the public appearance among other Sith anymore. On the other hand there was rarely a party that could keep him at bay. The monarch enjoyed the finer things in life, and his own world provided him those luxuries. However, it was too far from the activity of those he was allied with, a dangerous tactical error which needed to be remedied. With the recent changes, shifting of the balance of power, Xander knew it was time to dedicate himself to forging more alliances, taking new territory, and finding alternative ways to work about his means.

His dress was fitting for the culture he came from. While most eyes would be on his old fashioned style with disdain or disgust, surely there would be someone that would not mind the flash flamboyance which accompanied his demeanor. Xander may have looked as though he were as flamboyant as his attire, but the methodical Sith Lord was anything but. Everything about him was calculated anymore. There was little room for the spontaneous in his life anymore, and there was part of the man which missed it. His aims were too lofty to be distracted by the interruptions of life, yet all this had done was create a lonely man that was reduced to his obsessions.

Perhaps that could change for a night. As he entered the ballroom he took to sampling the champagne. If there was one thing he knew it was drink. Wine and brandy had been his life as a child, the main export of his world. He smirked as the golden liquid passed his lips and settled on his tongue. The hostess knew hers as well. Tonight there was no escort for the monarch, no arm candy to make the other men jealous as Xander normally was prone to do. For the first time in a long time, the king moved about as the bachelor he was. Tonight was about indulging in the spontaneous as it came.

His eyes fell on the usual threats more aggressive Sith passed on to others. Xander shook his head they followed to the target of the death threat. He approached the woman from behind not letting his eyes off the man who had given the gesture.

"I hope neither threat is idle. Passive aggressive actions are so passe for Sith."

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Yaadri Osi-Yyn]

As the evening continued, the Ithorian remained in the same position he had been in from the beginning of the night. He stood towards the back of the conglomerate and made faint mumbles out of his twin mouths. Eyeing each of the high ranking Sith members with his eyestalks, in a cautious manner. Not approaching them but simply admiring the stature of each of them and feeling the darkside beaming off each of them. If he were to socialize someone were to approach him, not the other way round.

That's not how Vaxxu worked. He was going over everything in his mind, planning an escape route even though it was almost certain that there would be no need to plan such a thing. But, he was calculated. He wanted to explore every possible route, before something were to happen. He cleared his four throats, before shuffling back into position, leaning back against the wall. His eyestalks lingering on [member="Darth Carnifex"] for several moments, eyeing his attire specifically, before speaking in a hushed yet monotone voice to himself. "Must be important." Then scanning his eyes across to [member="Grimoire"] picking out the fact that he mentioned the Darth as her uncle. A family? Interesting. He wanted to know more, but he chose not to get too curious.

With that, he would take a sip from the glass in his left mouth, before still grumbling with his right mouth at the same time. The Ithorian biology is fascinating. Is it not?

 

[Khaldun]

Khaldun was confused for a moment before he realised what the other thought he was. "Oh my friend you seem to be mistaken about something, I am not master just an acolyte like yourself no need to grovel before me. It seemed you were in a spot of trouble, it is not wise to start a fight in another's home they would most likely kill you. Khaldun spoke in soft soothing tones no reason to make the man anymore upset, the man could be killed over an outburst here in this den of vipers. "tell me, friend, what brings you to this world power, money, or is it fame. I find that these are the vices most sith or dark Jedi have."
Khaldun looked around the room while he was sitting there seeing who was listening to them as he made no attempts to hid his words. Everything was a game in its own way this man sitting in front of him could one day hold his fate in his hands, you never know in a galaxy like this. He looked at the man drinking a bit while waiting for a response.

[member="Drew Diysent"]

 

[Darth Grimoire]

[member="Calina Ovmar"]

Grimoire's eye twitched at Calina's verbal and sly assault. Her face held her diplomatic grin but, her beast, Yarmis, could feel in the Force her master's growing rage. Yarmis absorbed this and was the only one to visibly show displeasure. The large beast began to growl and bear its large gnarled fangs while stretching out its bat wings. But, Grimoire, appreciative of her beast taking the blame of breaking the calm facade for her rested her pale hand on its red mane.

The Countess pouted her lips together and whistle a soothing hush. The beast's rage, and perhaps her own, subsided. Grimoire's grin had bent into a flat-lined frown. There was some bite left in her after all, but, knowing her mad mother Grimoire was not surprised. This friction was expected. Grimoire herself was no different, its why she killed every experiment her own mother birthed into creation - jealousy of daughters were a powerful energy.

"My apologies Calina." Grimoire said recomposed, "I didn't expect you to be so sensitive, perhaps you have yet to recover from the trauma of your captivity."

Grimoire released her hand from her beast and shooed it away. The beast dissatisfied shrieked at her master and with a powerful gust lifted off into the black night. Grimoire sauntered over to Calina and whether she liked it or not, Grimoire locked friendly arms with her, imprisoning her as her escort back into the ball.

When the two were ear-to-ear walking in parallel, Grimoire leaned close and hissed into Calina's ear, "My mother is always with us, she is darkness itself. But, if you are so interested in her, you should ask your own about her...Darth Hauntruss has a quite the reputation amongst the old kindred dark."

"You have no idea with what you mock, you spoiled brat."

Grimoire then removed herself from Calina and with a crooked smile kissed her on the forehead.

"Now play nice and enjoy yourself, my dear." Grimoire's warning ended with a pointed finger and a nail digging squeeze of Calina's arm disguised as an affectionate nudge.

 

[Darth Imperia]

[member="Khaldun"] | [member="Darth Vizios"] | [member="Drew Diysent"]

Mala couldn't help but grin.

She watched, even as she spoke, Diysent's rage grow and grow, and even though she knew she was in for a fight, all she could feel was smug satisfaction. It always did feel so good to push someone over the edge.

The young Acolyte had her hand on her blaster pistol as Drew prepared to attack, ready and willing to put a hole through his gut - and then the Pureblood interrupted, drew her prey away from her. Mala, admittedly, was a bit disappointed - she'd hoped for a little blood to spill from this exchange, and Khaldun had thrown a wrench into her little game. She uttered a mocking laugh at Drew as he walked away, dismissing his threats with an irreverent gesture. She'd get another chance to toy with him later, she was sure of that.

Her plotting streak was interrupted by Vizios, who the young Acolyte greeted with a smile and a laugh, taking another sip of her wine. Considering her own... interesting choice of attire, she didn't mind her newest companion's all that much. It was charming, in a very antiquated and quaint way.

"I do not make idle threats - but I won't be the one who kills him. It simply isn't my style. I might make him wish he was dead, however, or orchestrate his death - that's so much more satisfying than simply putting a blaster bolt through his head."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Darth Ignus"] | [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Niysha"] | [member="Kadri Ughad"] | [member="Mala Arar"] | [member="Drew Diysent"] | [member="Darth Vizios"]​

​

What would be the point of an effective conclusion if you reached it slowly?, Tirdarius thought, reflecting on the words of the younger man. Certainly being misjudged on appearance was a useful enough thing, but it was a weapon to be directed at beings less than many of those within the room, those who lived in a state of such complacency that they often overlooked that which was staring them right in the eyes. We Sith are trained to do better than that, he noted calmly, faintly-amused at the rebuke the younger Sith offered. Though one might also argue that keeping your attention elsewhere is not the course of wisdom when surrounded by self-serving beings such as those we presently keep company with.

Such thoughts weren't to be verbalised here, however. Tirdarius had little concern for the reaction of others to those thoughts, but it would be impolite to provoke a fight here - such would do little to return the graciousness of their host. And though we are Sith, it is only appropriate to observe your manners. So few among them bothered to observe the courtesies, reasoning that such were the mannerisms of lesser creatures, and that the Sith had ascended beyond the need for them. Which is an arrogance that invariably traps many into a true fall: their corruption becoming so deep-seated that they betray the principles they are taught in their first years among us.

It always invariably fell to the Sith Lords to destroy those poor beings, driven mad by their own ego and with a little nudge from the Force, preferably before they could do any significant damage.

"A timid Acolyte would not speak thusly," he remarked with a faint touch of amusement in his tone, returning his thoughts to the present moment, grey eyes locking onto those strange flame-like eyes, reflective of a deeper immersion in the Dark. But that's not all you are, is it? There was something strange about this one - Ignus, as he had named himself - something that the Sith Lord couldn't quite place his finger on. Almost as though being here is just a game for him. "Though your own is certainly not to be counted among that number, I expect," he continued, noting the girl sat next to the Mirialan. "Her shyness seems only to manifest in how she regards you."

Speaking of Acolytes, the boy that he had spoken to a moment ago continued projecting, such that it was practically drowning out any other sensation in the grand hall: anger, fear, frustration, all mixed into a volatile combination. Such are the thoughts of the undisciplined, the Sith Lord noted silently. The others all mostly had a handle on their feelings: impulses might be picked up, but many were concealed as swiftly as they appeared, reflective of the Sith tendency towards keeping their cards close to the vest. But that one is making himself a target.

He wasn't alone in this, however: there was another playing with their feelings, darker and considerably more focused, however. Almost viciously playful. It was a predatory sense, that of one simply biding their time, watching their prey, waiting to pounce. And it is coming from right next to me. It was the short-haired blonde, her eyes gleaming in anticipation of a kill, her hand resting against the pommel of a blaster holstered at her side, incongruous with the rest of her attire.

Tirdarius shook his head almost imperceptibly, restraining the soft sigh that might otherwise have escaped him. Always one looking to start a fight. True, that boy would certainly deserve his fate if the girl succeeded, but with the tensions palpable in the air, as was always true when their kind gathered together, each a soft simmering cauldron of restrained emotional energy, a single spark might ignite an inferno that would sweep away so many of them. Caution must be observed in choosing the right moment for such a thing.

Reaching out, his sleeve brushing past a male wearing clothing that could only be described as ostentatiously antiquated, the Sith Lord pressed a firm hand against the one that the [member="Mala Arar"] held against the blaster, his own eyes dark and full of malevolent promise.

"Weak as he is, he may serve a purpose in time, should he survive training," Tirdarius remarked in an icy tone, the normally urbane accent dropping a few degrees in temperature. "Would you so offend our hostess with your misdirected bloodthirstiness?", he enquired, brows contracting in a slight scowl. The Sith had a habit of preying upon each other and failing to see the big picture that stood before them, so consumed were they by petty jealousies and even pettier rivalries. It would be disappointing if this one were the type to so indulge them. "Do not take it upon yourself to choose life or death for one such as he," the Sith Lord continued. "His own actions will determine that for him. Stay your hand, so that we may all do the same."

 

[Darth Imperia]

[member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Darth Vizios"]

Mala uttered only a sigh in response to Tirdarius's intervention, and responded only with a small nod of her head.

He was right, of course.

Say she struck her prey here. Provoked or not, it would draw attention - The pureblood who took an interest in the boy might come to his defense, those at Mala's side might come to her aid. Before long, more and more would be drawn into the conflict; an ambitious Acolyte might see a chance to prove their might, an older member of the order might take the opportunity to pick off a rival distracted by the brawl, and then the whole Ball devolved into an orgy of bloodshed and violence.

And as amusing as that might be, it was hardly practical - especially considering she'd be in the middle of it.

So, with a minimum of grumbling, she relaxed her posture and turned to face Tirdarius, away from her conversation with Vizios.

"You're right, of course. I seem to have got a bit caught up in the moment - it's unbecoming of a Sith, I know." With that, she set down her empty wineglass on a passing servant's platter, and shot one last smirk in Drew's direction. With that, she turned back to Tirdarius, and performed a quick bow. "Anyway...I don't think we've been properly introduced, my Lord. I am Mala Arar, apprentice to Darth Vitium." Her tone was polite, friendly - and, to someone with an ear for such things, so carefully calculated to sound genuine that it would put many politicians to shame.