Recent content by Senestra Sylverian

Perhaps her foe was actually some jester who could spit fire. Maybe some bloody mummer of an attacker. Otherwise a mundane individual with no power over the Force. Same may be said of her sister or brother. Two of them, at least, for not every Sylverian was born in the Force. Though, every...

Her Imperial presence on this ship wasn’t a secret. Yet it wasn’t publicly broadcasted knowledge either. Had her family boasted a position of galactic recognition then maybe anybody would recognize her face in an instant. However, the House of Sylverian, a vassal of the Empire, was no brightly...

Unlikely to be recognized, given that her family wasn’t one that was mentioned in the public or private sectors outright. No position of acknowledgment for their betters, and yet it did so boast enough wealth and power to be given an invitation for this party at least. ‘Senestra Sylverian’ was...

A lady, but not lost in a maze. She knew her fortress as a girl played her little game. Back then, a memory of torches, of lanterns; brother and sister in the dying of the day. A lady of a noble family, of House Sylverian, a daughter of a dragon, of the Old Dragon. He didn’t need a crown on his...

There are those who claim that a dragon’s breath was enough to melt flesh. Not even fire, more like a whisper, a gentle breeze, to render skin like paper. So that, when a dragon did cast its flame, it was quite like a star’s own breath. That blaze, a little girl learned, emblazoned her very...

‘A Pome of Home’. First words on the letter. Letters written in black ink. Red dragon branded beneath. A letter, her brother had written her, as he liked to do. The writer among the family, Aevis, making hearts move. A ladies man, this sibling, thirdborn, nicknamed Flamefinger. For more than...

A man had led, a woman had followed, onto the dance floor those dancers borrowed. They weren’t alone, far from so; rather, mere feathers on wings, whether fast or slow. They spread around her, him and them whether burgundy dress or cerulean tailcoat. For her dance and song the instruments are...

Brother and sister walk along, joined arm in arm. And just then, Tameon's and Senestra’s arms part. “Sorry, sis...” her brother confesses. “I must piss.” And, like that, he steps away to do his business. "Very well." Senestra bids farewell with an eyeroll. She stands alone but isn’t alone...