Open Social Mustafar The First of Many

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"how others act towards their lowers is not my decision, I do not control them, I can treat those below me how I see fit how I choose, it is a matter of personal opinion, and to your second statement, I offer you attempt to call an imperial here, and see what happens to us, oh I know, we can call the oh so successful empire palpatine established.. Oh wait.. it was overthrown not even forty five years into its creation.."

cremek shook his head.

"ooooohh shes icey... you should offer her to dance!"

"I do not dance marian."

He exhales.

"my loyalty goes to tempest because she is the strongest, If I grow stronger than her, I will consume her, just as I might with you, that is the sith way, it is how we avoid stagnation, I expect the same thing from her, and you."

"fool... just.like.the.others."

"expectations, you see?.."

---

Marian- internal
Cremek- internal
cremek-external

@Xorism

 

[Nevizkas]

The verbal sparring back and forth was something that Cyutadakyr was quite enjoying. It didn't seem that they were all that different in their views, little bits here and there that might contrast their way of thought. The pureblood lowered her hand to her side, adjusting the dress at the hip with her signature smirk emblazed as he dared her to call him an imperial.

"You said it, not me." The quip about the former Empire was short and sweet, a good zinger if there ever was one. But even in its short lifespan, it had marked several accomplishments including requiring a significant portion of the galaxy to unite in order to overthrow it. "And yet it was the hand that fell Mandalore, the Republic, and the Jedi Order." The thought lingered in her mind, had the Moffs been more successful in cleansing the planet, might she even be having this conversation some century later?

If the day truly came that Cremek grew stronger than the Dark Lord, then that was a fight that she would surely enjoy watching. The power of the Dark Side was something champions could only dream and imagine, but the command and prowess that the lords could wield were truly breathtaking.

With a small wink, the pureblood simply remarked "On this, we agree."

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"that's the issue, why did they rebel. Because they felt like they were in the right to do so.. we establish ourselves as a "good" in the galaxy, loyalty will come easily, and stay, control them, but make it seem like it's their choice."

He crossed his arms now, staring dead into her eyes, he exhaled, but his voice modulator made it sound like a wolfish growl.
he took out his saber, but not igniting.
"if we were anywhere else, and you spoke of my peoples genocide with that disrespect, I would have killed you where you stood."
He said flatly, and honestly, his tone was sharper than a sorcerers blade of sacrifice, he had been taught at a young age, as soon as he was able to understand, that the night of one thousand tears was the lowest point in his people's history, ever. How dare this.. over glorified, red skinned, bastard, use that as ammunition, if he were anywhere else, he would have not even bothered to warn her, before delivering a choke, or if he was REALLY pissed off, a grip.
he placed his saber back under his cloak.

---

"sheesh cremek, it's just a planet.."
"it was our home, our sacred capital."
"you're dar'manda, cremek, it shouldn't matter to you."
"even an exile can still value a place he's never seen, just like how you never got to meet your descendants, yet still pine for them."
"low blow.. but you need to relax.. she didn't mean any harm, I think."
"Do not command me.. Ghost."

---

Marian- internal
Cremek- internal
cremek-external

@Xorism

 

[Darth Tempest]

Tempest couldn’t help the way that her lips twitched upwards - amusement flashing behind her yellowed eyes. He certainly didn’t lack courage to openly criticize her followers, and the Dark Lord didn’t entirely disagree with the assessment. Thoughts of her own dead apprentice flashed across her mind, and several of the supplicants who followed her still. It didn’t matter. They would either evolve or be discarded when they no longer served their function. Such was their way.

The Dark Lord continued to sway against the Orcolan - gracefully moving across the dancefloor in perfect harmony - until she went for the dip. At once, Tempest felt Barz scramble in response, his hand tucking against the small of her back. She felt the hand that grasped at her bare thigh, wrapped around his own leg as part of the maneuver.

Her gaze flicked up to capture his own - grinning ever-so-slightly upon seeing his expression go flush. “You certainly could be worse,” She finally said as Barz brought her back upright, responding to his earlier assessment of not being particularly skilled at dancing. After all, she hadn’t been dropped and her toes were intact.

“I believe I would.” She said, nodding in response to his offer of a drink. Stepping forth, Tempest left their place on the dancefloor - making her way of join the Orcolan at the bar. While he grabbed a beer for himself, Tempest opted for one of the brightly colored cocktails prepared by the droid. She had always enjoyed the fancier and fruity drinks, even as an Acolyte, and her tastes had yet to change.

It was his following question that captured her attention - prompting Tempest to gaze out to her own surroundings. To the Fortress that was hers as domain. To the multitude of Sith that followed her loyally. Even with their exile, the Dark Lord commanded more influence over her peers than ever before.

“Yes,” She finally said, nodding in affirmation to his original question. Her ambitions had always driven her through the ranks of the Sith. They allowed her to claim the mantle she wore at that moment. “And it is only a start.”

“What is it that you want, Barz?” She said, glancing over towards him. “Survival unincluded,”

Even as the question hung in the air, Tempest glanced across the room - her gaze fixing upon Cyu and Cremek. Her sensitive hearing allowed the Dark Lord to pick up on the conversation taking place, and the exchange of barbs being slung between them. The smile on her lips spread wide, and she couldn’t help the way that her respect for Cremek rose at once. He was a newcomer to their inner circle, but his philosophy and response to the taunting displayed no lack of promise within the Champion.

She almost expected the two of them to draw their sabers next - a thought that no lack of amusement to her expression. The Dark Lord had no intention of interfering quite yet, allowing things to place out as they would.

 

[Nevizkas]

Cyutadakyr couldn't believe her ears, as if the order hadn't just released itself from the shackles of the empire and the very same "good" policies that he spoke of.

Perhaps he had slept through the last few years and did not realize that under the previous empresses, the Sith had been muzzled and operated much the same way he described, only for it to come tumbling down at the hands of the new empire. The Sith had spent a considerable amount of time and effort to rehabilitate their image in the eyes of the galactic public, even embarrassing the Jedi on numerous occasions.

Perhaps he knew, and his goal was to prevent the new order from blossoming under its newfound freedom. Either way, someone here was about to be embarrassed, and she certainly didn't plan for that to be her.

The moment he reached for his saber, Cyutadakyr did the same, pulling the hilt from out underneath her loose-fitting dress and into her right hand. Holding an amused glare, she kicked her heels off to the side as she listened and intently watched him rattle on about an apparent soft spot - his Mandalorian roots.

Curiously, he seemed to threaten her life and promptly backed down and started to holster his hilt as if even he didn't respect his own threat. Whether this was a feint or trick of some kind, she didn't know - but it didn't change her desire one bit to punish his 'good' little ass.

It was at that moment she triggered her first assault.

Igniting her crimson lightsaber blade, the pureblood stepped right foot forward for balance and thrust its potent edge toward Cremek's lower torso intending to stab him through and knock him out. With her left hand, she held defensively, coiling the force in preparation to either defend herself or punish his next misstep with a ruthless attack of her own.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

Cremek would chuckle, sidestepping the strike that was telegraphed to him, before he re-ignited his own, not a hiss, but a howl could be heard from his blade, one that could be heard throughout the party, a krayt dragon pearl focused saber, he clearly meant business.

He intentionally strikes her saber, to demonstrate this. Unlike this fool, for a mandalorian it was either victory or death, no backing down.

"Did you think that would even remotely startle me, or surprise me!?"

He would close his fist, the nails on his gauntlet cutting into his palm, as a draining arua began to swirl around him in the form of misty darkness.

"We'll see how long you last, eh!?"

he would take form juyo, vappad to be exact, testing her defensive skill with attacks in odd angles, he was playing with her, wanting to see just what she can do.

@Xorism

 

[Ervius Xann]

“Indeed, perhaps more than I should,” Ervius replied with a slight smile. “Ghosts are much more straightforward than the living, it likely has to do with their inability to truly perceive the world after their death. Everything warps to fit the context of their pre-death knowledge… My apologies, I tend to ramble about things I like.”

He took a sip of wine and looked around the hall. The flash of a lightsaber stole his attention for a moment. He had never attended Sith soirées before, but igniting a weapon — while being someone else’s (in this case the Dark Lord’s) guest? Ghosts liked a little blood during their ‘parties’. Ervius wondered if the current Sith shared their dead ancestors’ sensibilities.

“It seems we have some extra entertainment this evening,” his smile turned wry at the sight of an impromptu battle.

”Admittedly, the lack of imperial resources has impacted my schedule,” Ervius continued, watching the combat unfold. “Which ironically gave me the free time necessary to visit this gathering. What about you, my lady?”

@lizziie

 

[Ambrosia]

It was an interesting perspective, and one that she could almost sympathize with. Almost. With every reason to hate the living, she still did not. The Arkanian offshoot did not particularly always care for straightforwardness. There was little room to sway if everything was spoken with absolute purpose.

The sound of an igniting blade was followed by the sound of another, and Ambrosia's pale eyes shot to the source of the sound. Cyutadakyr and Cremek had fallen into a skirmish. The woman's eyes narrowed as she listened to the man's taunts.

"I fought to take this fortress," Ambrosia answered, gesturing to the place around them. Her voice still soft, grew slowly louder in pitch until anyone standing in proximity might hear.

"As did she."

More eyes turned to watch the fight. Ambrosia however, was unconcerned (or at least hid it). She offered a hand out to Ervius, her body gesturing toward the dancefloor.

"That is why I am here. Do you dance?"

@Keisen @Xorism @theaveragejedishadow

 

[Morgon]

Ambrosia's smile soothed the whirlwind inside Morgon's head. He smiled back, watching her lead Ervius to the dancefloor. However, the activation of lightsabers caught the Anzat's attention, drawing his gaze to Cremek and Cyu. Hadn't they been been musing each other earlier? Whatever happened, Morgon wouldn't allow them to ruin Ambrosia's dance, even if it wasn't with him. After finishing his drink, he positioned himself in between the duel and the dance as a buffer.

Foul murderlings, Morgon grunted with disdain as he watched the fight. But perhaps no one would mind if the Anzat ate the loser? It had been decades since his last feasting, which resulted in his less than attractive apparel. Oh, but I'd need them alive... I will intervein then. Neither Cyutadakyr or Cremek were high on the list of Sith the Nightbrother liked, but this disruption was unnecessary. Hadn't the Pureblood already fought to liberate this place? It took a very rare kind of stupid to throw away everything you've worked for over a conversation you'd forget in your sleep.

Emboldened by what? Being offended is a choice, you entitled miscreants...

 

[Ervius Xann]

”Indeed I do,” Ervius replied, accepting the offer and taking the offered hand. He learned the skill on Raxus, when Sith were still a distant order to him. Ervius had no particular love for it, but he could think of far worse ways to spend an evening than dancing with a beautiful Arkanian. Perhaps he was getting a hang of this ‘social niceties’ things. Probably not though. “I have heard of the campaign on Mustafar, though I never quite got the details.”

When they reached the dance floor, he placed one of his hands on Ambrosia’s back, and raised another. Dancing implied a level of intimacy Ervius never cared to acknowledge. With both him and his partner being Sith, he was sure both of them rose above such trivialities. He considered dancing a learning opportunity: unlike ghosts, people tended to slip when presented with an appealing rhythm, piece of art, or anything that excited them.

The slow music from earlier was still playing, as if arguing with the loud hum and rapid buzz of the clashing lightsabers. Ervius cared little about the combatants, spectacle itself aside. Perhaps Ambrosia did. If she wanted to join their little duel via this dance, perhaps Ervius would oblige, perhaps not. He preferred to avoid attracting too much attention.

“Shall we?” Ervius asked out of politeness and took the lead.

@lizziie

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

Cremek would not back down, his honor demanded retribution, only her backing down would suffice, but he stood, he would not draw morgon, or anyone else, into this fight, or leach off his life force, that would be dishonest, and scummy, so he made some distance from the sith to spare him from the draining arua.

"Offense is one thing.. disrespect of ones entire culture is another, I will defend both my honor and my peoples honor, no matter what, decorum be damned."

He growled, he did not start this fight, but he was damn sure he would finish it if she made him.

"And attacking a foe when he places his weapon away?.. what a hut'uun. Though I commend the attempt."

@Charles @Xorism

 

[Ambrosia]

Ambrosia was keeping an eye on Cyutadakyr and the fight — glancing over whenever Ervius had his back to them in their dance — so she did not miss the way Morgon so specifically placed himself in between the two groups. But as her conversations were with Ervius now, and not him, she would stare past him, unconcerned with her safety but curious to see what he might do.

She took the hand of her fellow Champion and led him a few strides away to the dancefloor. As he placed his hand on the small of her, she would place hers on the outside of his shoulder. Her free hand raise to meet his hand, her fingers curling in-between his. The Arkanian woman was not afraid of intimacy. Intimacy led to a great many things, like secrets and new knowledge.

"We shall." Ambrosia began to dance, allowing the music to guide her steps and sway her body along with the music. She was graceful as always and was unphased by the dissonance of clashing sabers.

"What incurred such interest in the dead in you, Ervius?" she inquired as they stepped and spun around the dancefloor. With a good majority of the hall focused on the fight, they almost had the area to themselves for the moment.

"Death and the dead are something that many Sith still instinctually avoid, yet you enjoy it."

@Keisen @Charles

 

[Ervius Xann]

Ervius felt himself carried by the rhythm as he himself guided Ambrosia’s movements. He led their dance in a wide arc around the duelists and the crowd of onlookers. The pair spun around to the tune of music. Almost distracted by the flow of motion and Ambrosia’s grace, Ervius noted a figure who stood between them and the fight at all times. The Arkanian’s admirer, perhaps? Ervius allowed himself a fleeting smile at the notion.

“Death is something we wish to avoid, true,” he replied simply. “But the dead hold many secrets, and I want them. Some to keep, others — to share.”

The clash interrupted the music, and Ervius almost missed a step. He shot an annoyed frown in the general direction of the duel. There were times when sith conducted their bloody business in special places. Was the abandonment of such practices a feat of evolution or devolution? A shout from Cremek caused Ervius to roll his eyes at the scene. Honor — among Sith? His distant acquaintance had a quaint taste for luxury.

“Utilitarian aspects aside, as Sith we are supposed to pursue our passions, are we not? Archaeology is mine,” he returned his gaze to his partner. “What about you, my lady? I can’t imagine alchemy and parties being the sum total of your interests.”

@lizziie

 

[Nevizkas]

Her sudden burst of movement wasn't enough to catch the masked champion unawares, as he sidestepped to avoid being skewered. With her blade being initially deflected by his strike and Cremek immediately counter-attacking with rapid aggressive swings, Cyu stepped back into the defensive.

It was difficult to judge where he would swing from next, but the pureblood simply matched his tempo, swinging her lightsaber around to block each strike as it arrived. Though coming from odd angles, she watched and waited for an opportunity to make her move.

Suddenly, instead of blocking his last odd-angled attack as she had been. Cyutadakyr sidestepped the attack to let him swing into the open air. Then in the same motion swung her own lightsaber across with the aim of slicing his sword arm at the forearm clean off.

If he tried any funny business, she'd be ready to respond in kind, watching and waiting.

"What does honor matter to the dead." Cyu spat back, laced with venom. The Mandalorians were a cosmic speck, somehow in an even worse shape than the Sith Order. It was oh so very tempting to reduce their numbers again, by one.

@theaveragejedishadow

Spoiler

Since I wasn't able to reach you on Discord, just gonna link this here for you. It is usually best practice on this site to only post once and let your opponent reply before posting again, but as your second post didn't do anything related to the fight I wrote mine as if they were one post.

 

[Ambrosia]

His answer made sense to her. Invoking the knowledge of a dead Lord's holocron would be invaluable. But so many of the dead were worthless, weak beings who spent their days doing mundane tasks and living out simple lives... She could, however, see how it might interest someone. Perhaps it was like gossip?

Ambrosia didn't miss the eye roll as Ervius reacted to the Mando-Sith's insults. A small smile tugged at her lips. About a third of the room was indifferent to it, a third was irritated by it, and a third was amused by it. Which, to her, really summed up the Sith.

"Alchemy is something new to me," she hummed at first.

"Anything that draws from the Dark Side intrigues me. Alchemy, magicks, sorcery..." She trailed off, distracted momentarily by Cyu as she spat back at Cremek. Neither had landed a strike, and that disappointed her. She imagined the fight would only end if one of them won or someone stepped in. She'd be surprised if they deescalated themselves.

Spoiler: Music

The music changed to something a bit more quick, leaving the dissonance between music and battle behind. Ambrosia similarly adjusted. Her hand moved from Ervius's shoulder down, her fingers running along his arm as she gently moved his arm from her back and his hand into hers. She was about to move the conversation on when the tune reminded her of something else.

"Oh, and music, I suppose. I was trained on piano."

It was certainly something she was passionate about, but it didn't hold a candle to her obsession with chasing the Dark Side. For someone who was so intrigued by the passions of others, she lacked very many defined ones of her own. She didn't know why, either, but it barely bothered her.

"What does it mean to be Sith, Ervius?"

@Keisen

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

Cremek knew he wouldn't be able to block such a strike in time, so he would growl, and use a force grip around her arms to at least mitigate the damage, he burns his hands as a result,

With a hiss of pain, he corkscrews bringing his saber down against hers, where finesse and skill would fail, brute force and simplicity hopefully would succeed, he headbutts her.

He would say nothing to her comment, focusing on the combat, he exhales, truly relishing it, this was what he lived for indeed, natural selection!

@Xorism

 

[Ervius Xann]

“Piano, truly?” Ervius‘s lips quirked into a smile as he adapted to the sudden change of pace. This time, he did stumble for but a moment, but his legs quickly fell into the proper rhythm and step. “How rare for a Sith to study something so far removed from the concept of power. It is a beautiful instrument, perhaps I may be so lucky as to hear you play it one day.”

The sight of the first blood lit a spark of excitement in Ervius. He got himself back on track quickly, however.

“And it was not to the detriment of your Force expertise,” Ervius nodded. “I confess to being much the same. Ghosts usually have insight into sorcery, alchemy, and whatever else they knew before their death… Of course, most of them are utterly mad.”

The pair picked up the pace with the music yet again. The cheerful, light-hearted tune clashed with the hum of sabers to the point of utter farce. Ervius persevered with the same small smile he had been wearing thus far. Ill-matching music was far from the most glaring contradictions of this soirée-cum-honor duel.

”Profound questions, at a social gathering?” Ervius‘s smile widened. He let out a quick chuckle and waited for the pace to wind down a little before offering a response. “Sith a complicated term indeed… Every source I’ve come across offered their own definition.”

The music demanded he let Ambrosia twirl around him, and so Ervius did.

“In that spirit, I would propose my own,” he continued. “Being Sith means being free to pursue one’s own goals and agendas. We may work together, but we cannot be tied down by protocol or an overbearing hierarchy. Perhaps, our break from the Empire was in the end for the better, my personal inconvenience aside. We may lead the galaxy one day, but it would be prudent to leave governing it to pawns.”

Music slowed down again, signaling an impending end to the dance.

@lizziie

 

[Nevizkas]

The sound of his growls as lightsaber met flesh was a reward unto itself for the devlish Sith Pureblood. By any standard rules of dueling that may have been enough to declare victory, in the first blood sense of the phrase. But Cremek wasn't so easily giving up, a trait that Cyutadakyr would surely come to admire in him if he lived long enough to see it.

His technique caught their blades in a lock, with either within arms reach and neither moving away. Head to head, Cyu liked ger chances but a solid metal helmet slamming into your face? That bloody hurt. With a loud groan, she suffered and he could watch as drops of blood fell down from a split in her forehead.

Content to hold him in place but rather not liking her chances of a facial rematch. Cyu did the one thing every little girl is taught when dealing with boys, applying sudden kinetic energy directly to the nether regions with one's knee.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

cremek grunted, but the trials and pains a typical sith had endured left his... well his pain tolerance was higher, so he immediately didn't fall, not to say that didn't hurt like hell, because it did, but cremek had an annoying habit of pushing through pain with humor.

"oooh... that had to hurt.."
"IT. DID."
"ow, kriffing-..now that was just uncalled for!... you don't see me groping you mid combat, save it for IF we both walk away.. jeez! And no, I'm not into that, nu-uh, dont even think about making that kind of joke, asshole!"

he would respond in kind keeping her knee locked in place with his thigh, she was in perfect range for his drain aura, now all he needed to do was keep her there and the force would do the rest, he brought his elbow down on her leg with all the force he could muster.

"What's the matter, ya look a little red, well, redder than usual?"
he joked, laughing at her bleeding face.

---

Marian- internal
Cremek- internal
cremek-external

@Xorism

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[Nevizkas]

It was almost a poetic duel, not some grand event swirling with high stakes and even greater reward, but a petty battle over some petty words sung. Cyu's nutcracker worked well, but not well enough to topple the tough bastard as she had hoped. His pain tolerance was surprisingly high, and that was saying something coming from someone who regularly put themselves through literal torture.

Cyutadakyr let out a little chuckle, smirking at his comment and how he had seized her leg. "If you had just wanted to dance, you could have asked, but I appreciate the effort."

The pureblood sensed the man attempting to drain her with some kind of aura, the ticking sensation sapping at her energy. The last time someone had done that to her had been a much more ...enjoyable time and thus she didn't squirm or worry. She'd fight through it and end the fight before he could wither her away to nothing.

With a swift thud, he brought his elbow down, striking her leg and causing the pureblood to wince in pain. Fortunately although painful, it was nowhere as bad as it could have been had it been armored.

Her face was daggers after that, drawing irritation from the humor. Which was coincidently what she would do next, as he held her leg up for her and made it quite easy to draw the vibroknife concealed under her dress. With her finger on the switch, she pressed its still but sharp edge toward his soft unprotected stomach, looking up into his eyes with a pained yet satisfied smile.

"Drop the saber, or everyone will find out what you had for breakfast. Your call sweetie."

@theaveragejedishadow