The weather had turned, it seemed apt considering that Death still lingered around Castle Wessex, it had been a little over a month since The Ascendancy, the removal of his father and brother and the instillation of Artorigas Wessex, the Sith as the head of the family and the owner of the Castle. Though he had already had a smaller gathering with the nobility of Serenno, today was a more important day. For today those that will be walking the corridors and halls of the castle were not simple men and women with money and age old bloodlines. But those with power, pure undeniable power, The Force, The Sith would walk these halls.
Artorigas had laid out all he could, no expense had been to much for this was not only a fancy party but his real announcement to the greater Sith Galaxy. He had also risen from the rank of Acolyte only a week after The Ascendancy so he was no longer a tiny pawn. He smiled as he watched the additional servers dance around the already collected Sith, canapes and drinks aplenty. The cellars had been opened and some of the most expensive and rarest wines the family held were on offer to those of high office which attended Castle Wessex this night.
From atop the raised Dias at one end of the Great Hall, he stood in all his finery, Wessex emblem embossed upon his chest and back, wine glass in one hand. The other behind his back ready to command any runner to his bidding, this would be a night to remember if the noble could help it.
Serenno was not a place that Tiamat would frequent; there was not many reasons that she would come to a world known for its old money and noble families that often could trace their influence in current government. There was a part of her that wanted to avoid worlds like this and the families associated with them; it may have been suggested to her at one point to rub enough elbows to gain funding for her work. However, Tiamat wanted no one else owning her research let alone old snobby money. This evening was not anything like close to wooing Oldfart Moneybags and instead, she would be in company of other Sith who were interested in what some young upstarts were up to this evening.
She never heard of it, though she was not one to busy herself with the upper and lower houses of the Serenno families. However, she could surely give a five hour essay on some obscure sith lord of the old or put masses to sleep with her explorations into multi-dimensional physics. The Sith woman stepped out of the speeder, the air was chilled and snow was falling gently as she tugged the heavy shawl around her shoulders. She took a moment to look at the tops of the pines before entering the castle, checking her cloak and smoothing out the front of her purple evening dress as she made her way into the Great Hall.
Someone came by with a tray of champagne and Tiamat helped herself to a glass as she furthered inside to mingle and be more social than she normally tended to be.
Serenno was a world that Bir had never visited in the past but upon hearing of how his dearest friend Arty had not only risen to a full fledged Marauder of the Sith but had used the small droid force that the Kel Dor had aided him in acquiring to reclaim his family throne, he knew he needed to visit. Of course, the last time the Sith had gathered for such an event it had resulted in power changing hands amongst them. Could that be the case once more? Anything with the Sith was possible. The Acolyte had had a good deal of his own successes in the days since Malicia’s gathering on Dromund Kaas. Ah, but not everything he touched turned to gold. Some would remain as bound leather with traces of his blood.
The Kel Dor would find himself wondering what the notorious Poffo could possibly be doing in this moment as he strolled into Castle Wessex, it’s grand entrance a reflection of the man that Bir believed Artorigas to be since meeting him all those weeks ago. Shaking off the cold, the Kel Dor stood tall as he straightened out his tattered cloak. For once the Acolyte had adorned himself in clean clothes beneath the scrap cloth that covered him. A black button up done to just below his neck would cover his often bare chest partnered with dark navy trousers. His feet however would not, could not, be contained within any sort of shoe. How vile such foot prisons were. ‘People are just so weird’ he would think as he entered the hall that would serve as the primary gathering place of this celebration.
Walking up to the nearest server, the Kel Dor would reach out and pluck a glass of champagne from her tray as she passed before hovering it back and forth under his mask. Learning from his past mistakes, Bir would not be left wanting. Not this time. His face contorting into a beaming grin, he would pluck a steel straw from beneath his shirt and insert it into the port he required to feed himself away from Dorin. With the smile ever growing, he would scan the growing crowd with a sense of eagerness for whatever may come as he enjoyed his beverage.
Malou was nervous to be in the presence of the Sith. Though she was no stranger to large gatherings, they were usually filled with those of noble status. People who followed certain unspoken rules and acted in ways Malou was versed in and understood. Not that she was ever the regular party guest; her father rarely had her attend events with him. She spent most of her time alone, with her books or studying under her tutor. So although she was used to gathering of even larger sizes, the girl had no idea what to expect. Her knowledge of the Sith was limited. Was she considered Sith, now that Artorgias had taken her under his wing? What was she to do? How was she to act? If someone spoke with her, how should she address them? How would they act? Malou had read many accounts in her old, dusty books which spoke of the Sith in both positive and negative lights. All her life she had been guided by her father on what to say, do, and act. Perhaps now was the time to act of her own accord.
The young girl sat quietly near Artorgias (@Braden Drake), dressed in a modest gown made of burgundy satins. A golden circlet sat upon her forehead bearing the eye of the D'Amaris family and from the circlet fell strings of golden beads down past her eyes. Underneath, red silk was wrapped around her head and beneath her hair to hide her eyes from view. As Artorgias once told her: if it is more natural to see through the Force, do not attempt to do a half measured job with your eyes.
From her seat, Malou watched as one-by-one the room welcomed in the invited Sith. It was an incredibly strange experience to see how everyone was defined within the Force as Artorgias was. She was so used to the appearance of those who weren't blanketed in the fabric of the Force. Regardless, she studied their colorless faces and drank in the details of their appearances and dispositions. Though she did not know her position in their hierarchy of Force-wielders, Malou decided that she would do as she always did. She would speak when spoken to and try not to say anything divisive or bold. They were all sentients as she was; how different could they be from the personalities she knew from Serenno?
Malou took a break from her inner back and forth to adjust the silken wrap over her eyes. She untucked some curls tangled within the fabric and then set her hands back in her lap. If she was under the wing of a Sith, then she supposed that made her Sith. And if she was Sith, then she should at the very least hope to introduce herself to others. What would her father do? Jerôme? Manon? She is always so charming, Malou thought of her cousin. What would Manon do? It didn't take her but a second to come to the conclusion. Her cousin was always keen to flatter the most important guests at any function. Malou lacked Manon's silver tongue, though she supposed it was a fair enough plan. The problem was, Malou had little knowledge of the Sith and little idea of who would be considered as an important guest.
For now, Malou supposed she would sit quietly and observe. Perhaps confidence would come to her later.
The celebration of his rank change from Acolyte to Marauder was one of two things being celebrated tonight. The second being the same rank up for Artorigas. It was an accomplishment that Xeno was grateful for. The celebration was being held at a great castle under the ownership of Artorigas. It was good that the other new Marauder had a place to hold the celebration. Xeno didn't own much for himself. His life will start anew as he had now become Marauder status.
Guests had been coming in, great guests such as Tiamat, Bir, and some other Acolyte that Xeno had never encountered. There were more to come surely, but for now Xeno had to make his way over to the bar and grab a drink to sooth his soul. He hadn't any idea what Arty kept in his cellars but it was time to find out.
"Time for a drink.."
The newly promoted Marauder was also waiting for more members of the Sith to show up. This was a time to celebrate. Surely they had wanted to join in on the fun. There is never any harm in having a drink and speaking of different topics. In fact that is an ideal way to spend time together for most people.
It had been years since Jaikus had last been on the planet, beckoning back to a time when he was little more than a member of Axxila’s wealthy upper-class, forced to mingle and smooze with the abundant noble families of the planet. Despite his experience, in truth, Jaikus was not familiar with this particular castle, nor the family to whom it belonged. Not that it mattered of course – for this evening was less about the storied history of a castle and more about the guests in attendance. It was their advancement within the Sith that prompted the occasion, after all, and Jaikus expected the attention to be directed upon them.
Under normal circumstances, Jaikus likely would not have attended such an event. A life-time of gala’s, fundraisers and charity dinners back home had left the Axxilan with little appetite for these sort of social gatherings. However, the opportunity to socialize with his peers, or perhaps ingratiate himself with his superiors, did present some benefits, enough to warrant him to have a change of heart.
The Sith stepped out of his transport and make his way into the Great hall, having traded his usual armor for his finest attire in an effort to impress. As he made his way through the hall, he managed to pluck a glass of wine from the tray of a passing-by server, bringing the crystal glass to his lips.
Kark, Deva could hardly remember the last time she had been in anything remotely social. She heard about the last bloodbath--ahem, social, and felt no small measure of disappointment she hadn't been witness to that. At the time, she had been recovering from a particularly nasty withdrawal.
But one of their own had now ascended, and since she had clawed back to the surface with the promise of free booze, she could hardly say no.
Dressed in a tailored black suit and elegant deep violet tie, the near-human hadn't spared any expense with at least cleaning herself up decently enough to impress. Besides, there was someone that had been rumored to make an appearance that she would have been keen to meet, if rumors were true. Remarkably, she was mostly sober enough to contemplate real thoughts in her head. Her gaze panned, looking for a ravishing redhead.
Her gaze landed on Tiamat, and she felt her heart slow in her chest.
Goodness, but those here liked to put on a show when it came to dressing. Though the woman was above her in the pecking order, Deva could appreciate someone who could stand on her own feet. Swiping a server droid's tray clean of a glass of champagne, her gaze settled on the woman, and she squared her shoulders, trying to prep herself for talking to her.
If only her heels would unglue themselves from the ground.
She hardly felt the cold anymore; most of her nerves were practically dead anyways, or continually numbed by her liberal application of booze and drugs. Tugging on her jacket once and sliding a hand through her hair to make sure the black locks didn't shift, she began to make her way over. Now that Deva could think straight for a few hours, maybe the Sith Lord could entertain a few moments with a mere Marauder.
"My lady," she rasped, offering the woman a slight bow.May I say you look ravishing? No. Awful idea. Lovely weather?
"If you'll pardon my rudeness... You look amazing."
Tiamat took a sip from her glass as she walked slowly around the room with no direction in mind. It was more from curiosity as to who else was currently present and who else was anticipated to arrive. She passed a rather large vase with an even larger floral arrangement that draped over the sides; she reached out to touch one of the brightly shaded bulbs as she passed and continued, taking a larger drink from her glass until she felt someone approach.
The redhead turned around to meet a woman to address her with a bow. Tia quickly took note of the dark violet tie while the marauder stumbled on how to address her.
Pardon her rudeness?
Tiamat pursed her lips, uncertain on how to handle the awkwardness now of this introduction, "Thank you." she smiled as she tried to not make anymore awkward and nodded to her tie, "I feel violet is so under utilized." she stated and took another drink to see if the woman would continue or run away from the fright of socially interacting.
Another party? Why in the name of Darkness was she attending another party? The last Sith extravaganza had been fascinating. At the very least, this little shindig might prove entertaining. Charlotte did hope for a few less dead bodies. She’d ruined one of her favorite dresses when Malicia fell. Blood just stained everything. The newly minted head of House Le’Anna needed allies. She was tied eternally to Darth Andruil but one friend did not make a kingdom. Charlotte was no fool, she did not trust her fellow Sith, but it behooved her to make connections outside Dathomir. You could never know when the winds of power changed.
Her newest pals were unaware of her connections to the Sith Order. She was careful to keep it that way. This was nothing more than a trip to a similar world. Serenno was old, wealthy, and dangerous. Just like home. It was perfectly normal to arrive paying respects to a newly risen noble, in fact, it was encouraged. Still, Charlotte left her estate quietly and arrived on Serenno equally silent. She even toned down her outfit.
The Marauder arrived without circumstance, quietly scanning the room. Oh, how she did love an old creepy castle. The shiver up spine felt delightful. It had to be haunted. She grabbed a passing glass of something bubbly. Her eyes immediately snagging on a familiar insane figure. Bir. The always strange Kel Dor had grown on her but she had other plans tonight. Charlotte started wandering around the party. What a joy.
A faint grin touched the corners of her lips at the woman's own reply, then nodding once. "As much as black can look good... I have to agree, violet's a good color. My nod to ultraviolet light spectrum--" she was about to begin, but then cut herself off, offering a self-deprecating cough.
She loathed small talk, yet here was the woman a Darth entered a facility to save, and had faced Jedi and survived, the woman deserved at least her respect. Simping seemed a bit much, but rumors had earned Deva's curiosity. And though time and drugs had destroyed her life, she could respect someone who survived. Yes, she'd heard the rumors of Raze and Stolas, but she was intrigued by Tiamat.
"Sorry, I'm terrible with ice breakers. A pleasure to meet you, my lady, I am Deva," she rasped, offering the woman a crisp nod and a faint grin.
"It's a pity I missed the last party," she continued, moving to stand beside the woman, in case others would want to approach her as well."I heard it was quite... lively. Perhaps tonight might be as intriguing," her gaze panning to where their host stood. She was intrigued with all of this. For once, the crowd seemed a bit... tame. Perhaps they were waiting on others, but she hadn't been to a function in so long, her etiquette felt lacking.
Emryc very well couldn’t show up to a Sith gathering as Emryc Thorne, President of the ISC. He normally had perfectly styled hair, an expensive suit and a nice chrono to boot for those gatherings. Here he had to conceal himself with armor and keep his face hidden at all costs. However, with his frame and the way he carried himself the Sith would recognize who it was.
Instead of his usual armor, he took it up a notch by donning the armor he wore on his wedding day to Darth Malicia. While that marriage had since been thrown into question, he had been presented the ancient armor of Siris Drast as a royal gift. He wore it today, the crimson cape perfectly adorned on one side as his imposing figure strode into the great hall.
Like Siris Drast once had, Darth Raze towered over most of those gathered, standing tall in his ceremonial armor that felt appropriate in a castle. He recognized several of the faces here, his helmeted face tilting towards Tiamat (@GABA) in particular. He noted the color of her dress, vaguely resembling those of the ISC banners. While it was likely unintentional, it nevertheless drew an amused grin behind the visor. Even then, the way the dress hugged her form certainly drew a lingering gaze from the aloof half Sephi.
Raze next took in sight of several other Sith he didn’t recognize. Heavy booted steps took him near a Sith woman he hadn’t met prior (@Valen Pelora ). The tray of drinks happened to be floating by her. He eyed the selections and decided to forego grabbing anything for now, craving a glass of whiskey above flutes of champagne.
Darth Stolas appeared through the castle doors as if thinking or speaking too much of the last party had summoned him out of the aether. Snow-drifts danced and dusted off the fine, dark gray cloak he wore, a fluffy collar of white fur glimmering in the light from frozen flakes trapped against the strands. His ears were adorned as always, the front flat electrum studs, and just behind them dangled finely made bass clef earrings in silver. Black and silken hair was meticulously styled as always now that it had been once again cut shorter.
The cloak was handed off to the attendant handling such things. Beneath he wore fine attire of quality silks, accented by silvered patterns and a pair of fine bracers. His belt was similarly adorned with silver Sith symbols, contrasting the other tasteful yellows and golds, all in a fashion more commonly seen in the far away Pacanth Reach rather than this side of the galaxy.
Black boots took him further inside the galaxy, hawk-like golden eyes sweeping over both the old architecture and those who had gathered within. Morgan recognized many of the party-goers from the last gathering or his military endeavors. The host on his dias was naturally well dressed as befitting his family's position, but others had also gone through some effort to be perceived a certain way. Tiamat wore a fetching violet dress with a glimmering sleeve, Charlotte a more simple black and gray mix. Another wore plain black with some elaborate designs, and a young woman Morgan didn't know a flowing burgundy.
But what drew Morgan's immediate attention the moment he saw it was the black and gold armour of a particular figure, tall and broad with a cape of crimson draped over one shoulder. Naturally he recognized the presence, the size and shape, the manner of walking, the man who adorned that armour. His eyes widened as he also recognized it as belonging once to Siris Drast, although he'd only seen images before and wasn't aware Emryc had acquired it. He rather liked it better on its current wearer, the silent and subtle brush of greeting against Raze's presence transmitting those feelings.
"Good evening. This one fits better, ou chou," Morgan said quietly to Raze (@Sreeya) with a tilt of his head as he delicately plucked a champagne flute from the tray he was eyeing, a spark of mischief and humour behind clearly curious goldens, a soft curl on his lips. He sipped it and his gaze turned after a moment to Charlotte. (@Valen Pelora) "Good evening, miss." He nodded his head very slightly, then turned to look between the two of them. "Excuse me, I should greet the host."
And then he began to make his way through the gathered guests on his way toward Artorigas Wessex himself.
Charlotte considered herself well in control of her emotions. The Darkness required carefully balanced precision. Letting her feelings run wild was unhelpful in such a setting. Unfortunately, Charlotte was not quiet as good as she thought. The sight of Darth Raze arriving nearly sent her to the floor. There was no mistaking the renowned Sith Lord and he was marvelous. No…Charlotte…terrifying.
She barely had time to gather herself before Stolas materialized in the room. He must have walked in but he seemed to simply be. The Marauder was trying to set her mind right when both Sith Lords approached her. Fuck. Charlotte was routinely attached to Andruil. She was used to the power but this was different. Andruil felt approachable almost normal. Stolas and Raze looked like gods and rang it in the Force. One deep breath. Be normal.
Charlotte bowed respectfully to both of them. “My Lords.” Stolas went off to great the host. Raze remaining behind. Focus Charlotte. “You were missed at the last gathering, My Lord. It was quiet the experience.” She had never met Raze and had no idea what to expect. She only knew she did not want to be on his darker side.
As the Sith gathered Artorigas watched, he had forgone an announcer, only for the fact that most Sith probably preferred to keep themselves low key against their enemies. And those who wished to flaunt their power and name did not need a lowly announcer to do so. He kept to himself at the top of the dais, if he got bogged down with talking to every person who walked through that door he would never get a chance to take a sip of wine, a travesty indeed.
He spotted his newly found apprentice and with a silent look he motioned her towards the newly minted Zabrak Marauder who was searching for his first beverage. This ordeal had originally been a joint matter to celebrate their elevation, but Artorigas had quickly turned this to his personal gain. They held it at his estate, they were wined and dined by his servants, on his credits, at the end of the night his name would be in their ears and on their lips not his. He let out a devilish smirk at the thought.
Soon power began to pour through the great double doors of Castle Wessex, he could feel the waves of Force energy emanate first from Tiamat then the armoured giant. Even without The Force pinging off him like an overactive sonar one could see the man held power, his stance, his demeanour, the way others reacted around him. He was a man to admire that was for sure, the armour was a match for his own, if he had the chance he would ask how he came about it, if there were others like it then he would like to add them to his collection.
Along the upper walls of the great hall above the beautifully detailed tapestries depicting epic battles of a time long ago forgotten, lay an assortment of weapons expertly arranged. It had been a long time since something meaningfully was added to the collection. The third of three Darth's arrived shortly there after, the man who had began the bloody rampage which ended the last large gathering of the Sith. Like before he wore expertly made clothes, made expertly to stand out amongst his peers, Artorigas kept his eyes on him as he first approached the armoured Darth before making his way up to the dais.
As he reached him Artorigas have him a small bow of the head as was fitting someone of his rank, yet within his own hall. "Mi' Lord Stolas, I thank you for attending my gathering." A perfect noble smile upon his face he continued. "I see you have refreshments already, how about something to eat?" He said gesturing forward one of the servers stood behind him. The platter had an assortment of different canapes for the Darth to choose from, first was a Minature Lobster Burger, fresh from Mon Cala, served with a dark paniono nero bun and a small half gherkin. Second was what appeared to be a small green rock, the server explained it was a goats cheese with parsley chlorophyll and mushroom coating. The final and most lavish of the three was a small golden ring made of crystallised sugar topped with caviar and gold leaf, fit for any nobility or Lordship within the Sith Eternal. "I personally love the Gold Ring, though if you wish for something for something else we have other options."
Stranger hated parties. No, that wasn’t the right word. Loathed. Emphasis on the “L”. They were a waist of time, money, and life. Time you could be spending learning more about the enemy or figuring out how to hide form one. Money to be used to kill your enemy or enough to hide you from one. Life was self explanatory. This was all a waist of perfectly good Sith. He was dressed the same he had been for the past forever and walked inside silently and put on his sly smile and avoided attention the best he could. He was invited by Antorigas because of some special cargo Stranger claimed to have on board The Derelict.
He had a Sith on board his good old fashioned YT-1300- or at least, half a Sith. Stranger chuckled to himself at that thought. He found the Dathomarian on Taris after the fight- it was just a fight compared to what he’s seen. The Force was the only thing Stranger trusted, well, that and Furtive, but only sometimes was he okay with the BD unit around. So he left the little droid on the ship to watch the unstable Sith-murder bot hybrid alone. So the Force better be right. Those damn “priestesses” are as vague as always…He grumbled at the thought and stayed in a shadowy corner of the room looking for his target/potential buyer/new buddy/person that can deal with the psychotic Sith on his ship that kept talking to someone Stranger couldn’t see.
Maybe he’d have better luck with the Jedi. Raksis was harmless. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not really, but under his mental state he could be easily suppressed and interrogated. Well, not interrogated. When Stranger tried that Raksis kept screaming with his eyes closed saying “SHOW ME MORE”. The hell kinda dirty shit was that man envisioning?! Or half a man, heheh. He laughed at his joke again, this time a little bit louder than he would’ve liked. He was also here, mainly, for some old pieces of art that Antorigas sounded interested in, but he wondered why a Sith would want a picture. It seemed very boring not very Sith-like, but maybe the Order had changed since Stranger could last remember.
Stranger continued scouting out the group looking for the guy that owned the place. No, not the guy. The kid. He may have risen in the ranks, or whatever, but he still had a lot to learn. Stranger remembered being a Sith. It didn’t last long. Maybe some of these folks were just about ready to wake up like he did. Not that being a Jedi was any better. He lasted half as long before he tried out the Dark Side. The kid was here for some art Stranger had- but he was gonna slide in the Sith in case he felt that he was being cheated out of his pay.
The party began to grow into full swing, members of the Order from the lowliest of Acolytes to the greatest Lords in attendance. Many a familiar face could be seen as he Bir scanned the sea of guests. There was Artorigas, the host, and Bir made a mental note to approach him and thank him for such an extravagant event. Charlotte, of course, the beautiful Hapan Sith. She never seemed to miss such events as this. Then there was his dear friend Xeno forever skulking in the corner. He had not seen him since Taris and while this was a momentous occasion for both Wessex and Xeno, it was the former that would claim the credit of this gathering.
Making his way towards the Dathomirian, Bir raised both arms in a wide embrace, no doubt having him stand out amongst the more reserved and respectful of the crowd.
”Xeno, my friend! How delightful it is to see you again!” Bir exclaimed, his pace quickening until he stood directly before the newly minted Marauder. Wrapping his arms around Xeno’s torso, no doubt an unreciprocated act, the Kel Dor would accidently spill some of his champagne onto the sleeve of his cloak at Xeno’s back. Pulling away from his embrace, Bir placed both hands on the Zabrak’s shoulders and held him at arm’s length.
”Congratulations! Congratulations!”” he exclaimed, his face contorted into a massive grin, unwilling to simply allow this moment for Xeno to be overshadowed by Wessex. ”I am delighted by your successes! How is the leg? Healing well, I hope?”