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Dathomir
2034 local time
Black wax dripped onto the ebony wooden floor with a weak slap. There was silence in the shack, save for the occasional beating of wind outside. The only source of lighting--the candle, held in Cinere's hands at chest-level--was struggling to illuminate the room, but just barely failed, instead sending flicking shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling. His eyes were closed and he was wordless, his breathing rhythmic and constant. It required some strain, but not as much as it had that first time channeling the Shadow. By now, they were like old friends. Cinere knew how to search for the power, how to sift through the useless white-noise of the Force. It came almost naturally at this point.
Green mist covered the floor and seemed to be pouring gently out of his hands, encasing the candle and his knuckles in it as it fell. Cinere opened his eyes and put out the candle. Taking a small obsidian dagger from the floor at his feet, he looked once more at the circle he'd painted into the ground with soil. It was barely visible, but he knew where'd put it. He channeled the Shadow into the blade of the dagger and made a small cutting gesture, opening a slit in the dirt. He stepped outside and then put the dirt back.
The Sith paced around the room, organizing materials he'd used for the protection ritual--one that he repeated daily, just in case--and set books back onto the rickety bookshelf. Much of the room was black, a byproduct of Dathomir's wood being the same color. He'd built the shack himself and had spent quite some time there, though he truly had no idea how much. Time passed seemed to pass differently when one was completely unconnected from the Holonet grid and occupying their time with research into the occult and performing rituals. His experience with magick had grown exponentially--he was a daily user at this point. Cinere had not interacted with many others on the planet, finding that he'd been left alone for the most part by the nightsisters around. He'd also not seen his parents and they likely had no idea he was on-world, but that was for the better. No distractions had interrupted him, and that had been greatly beneficial.
Well, no disruptions until now. He could feel the presence in the Force approaching slowly, could sense the raw power and darkness making its way over. He had no reason to be on edge because it was a familiar presence--although they'd only met once--and he knew that this was not to be a hostile visit, most likely. Rather than scramble to bolster the defenses, he set a kettle on the stove. Then, he looked through the cupboard and brought out a small bag with herbs in it. As the kettle whistled, he dumped the tea inside and left it to cool a bit. Because there was someone at the door.
The Sith took off his helmet, which was part of the outfit he wore in rituals. White hair spilled out onto his shoulders. After months of strain experimenting with the dark side, his appearance had changed accordingly. The stress and intense emotion had caused his hair to whiten, and he'd let it grow, not cutting it at all since he'd moved to the shack. It was long but not unkempt, catching a bit of light from outside, glimmering. His face was a tad skinnier and paler, the capillaries near his eyes bruised and blackened, giving him an appearance similar to a panda. Such was the consequence of convening with the Shadow in such a great volume. It was unavoidable, but he wore the marks with pride, and he knew that the nightsisters could appreciate them best out of anyone else in the Galaxy.
He set the helmet down on a chair and went to the door, opening it without looking through to see who it was. He knew already.
The door swung open and he bowed. "I was not expecting visitors, but I hope you find it welcoming, my Lady," he remarked, motioning to the small home behind him. It was tidy because he was a tidy person, and truth be told, there was nothing the Empress would find displeasing within. If anything, she might like the abode--cozy and clean, teeming with darkness and full of tomes, magical supplies, and shelves lined with potions.
@Phoenix