Marf
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2012
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The room ebbed in navy, liquid shadow morphed each edge and corner into indiscernible shapes. A little amount of furniture stood lost beneath an enormous windows bearing onto the clouds. Bloody curtains parted by an ajar slit allowed a discrete moonbeam to balm the desk. Before the black metallic finish, Vereshin moved the silver wheelchair he sat in with gentle telekinetic flow. Black robes caressed his natural shoulders, a hood veiled his blinding chalk countenance. He brushed the end of his nose with a raven quill while portending the scores of quantum equations and symbols indiscernible the average mind which sprawled the surface of the desk.
Eyes raised without an ounce of gesture, their gaze drew open the heavy door at the far end of the room to welcome the sound of intruding heels. They were expected, but each callous clack against the obsidian marble disrupted Vereshin's perfect solitude. Kira Elan stepped into the threshold and received the darkness. It emanated every crease of the vast room, resonated from his vessel and enveloped him like gaseous ink. Since the successful Voidsphere ritual Vereshin's power in the Force increased dramatically, but left him temporarily incapacitated. Time would be needed before he regained his prowess.
"Dark Lady. I am pleased to inform, the ritual to restore power to our twin worlds was a success."
The muted twang of a harpsichord roamed sorely in the ambiance, leading Vereshin to move himself from behind the desk to greet Lady Solumn. His voice lilted with unassuming softness while he gestured to a beautiful dark chaise for Kira to sit. A table presented tea, biscuits and alcohol to her whim.
"So humbled am I for you to request my council."
Twenty years subsided since Vereshin abdicated from the mantle of Supreme Leader. The truth that he ever held the title faded into obscurity and remained unknown to most. His strength lay in the shadows, seeping and consuming as an omnipresent void. That the Dark Lady herself requested to learn from him aroused genuine flattery from Vereshin. So high in stature, yet willing to learn from an entirely different perspective. She already deserved respect for just that.
Moving to the table, Vereshin leaned over a black and silver tea set to pour himself a cup of white peony. The discrete little glint of a tiny needle from atop his hand conflicted with the darkness, leading to a tube hidden up his slowing sleeve. He lived on fluid constantly for the time, the massive assault on the Force he conducted ravaged his insides. Hand trembled idly for the moment, let a deep breath. A strange combatant in his sanctuary set his heat a race.
"Cigarette? Forgive me I do not know if you smoke."
@Prudence
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