ʜᴄ sᴠɴᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏɴᴇs
It was a complete, utter shame that his superior, [member="Darth Saarai"], would choose to simply... depart. It wasn't that his fine, feathered 'friend' - more of an unwilling acquaintance on Tai's part - was incorrect. This was chock to the brim with xenophobia, disorder, and grandstanding. It was a difficult proposition from the start, and each misstep on the moderators' and participants' parts lead it closer to disarray. No, the issue was that, for him, that was the point. Did this efficiency-minded inquisitor not understand that watching peace fray and fumble, watching even the most simple of humanitarian issues turn to ash over partisan bickering - that seeing chaos arise from order was the acme of pleasure?
What was he thinking? Of course he didn't - there was a reason that cold fellow was anointed and lauded so highly. Rising, Vesper did not let his smile break or falter, but he was, at the end, full of recrimination. Where was the joy in stopping something just because it was futile? If you couldn't watch the ancient foes of the Sith flounder, what was the purpose of negotiations? Did they actually expect a settlement to be reached?
"..." he opened his mouth for a moment, forming the first breath of a word, then closed it. The time for words was over - now was the time to defer, again, to his Imperial masters. He resented this. Silently vowing that one day he would have satisfaction, he followed the Lord of Truth, matching his pace, three steps behind, feeling like a hungry man taunted with a meal and rewarded with an empty plate.
What was he thinking? Of course he didn't - there was a reason that cold fellow was anointed and lauded so highly. Rising, Vesper did not let his smile break or falter, but he was, at the end, full of recrimination. Where was the joy in stopping something just because it was futile? If you couldn't watch the ancient foes of the Sith flounder, what was the purpose of negotiations? Did they actually expect a settlement to be reached?
"..." he opened his mouth for a moment, forming the first breath of a word, then closed it. The time for words was over - now was the time to defer, again, to his Imperial masters. He resented this. Silently vowing that one day he would have satisfaction, he followed the Lord of Truth, matching his pace, three steps behind, feeling like a hungry man taunted with a meal and rewarded with an empty plate.
| [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Vilhelm Balfour"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Kei Raxis"] | [member="Lord Mettallum"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Derek Dib"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] |