Stolas snarled as his attack went off, razor fangs bared and eyes as fiery as twin, all-consuming suns. They bored into Raze, willing him to die. Willing to bleed and fall, no matter how much Morgan knew he'd be horrified by it afterward. No matter that it would break his heart to do it. A Drast...
Stolas would never had expected Raze to throw off his helmet. Neither the demon nor the half-Sephi whose face it wore would ever have done that in any prior circumstance in order to keep his identity hidden. It surprised him, and he wasn't able to transition from helm to head quickly enough...
Morgan's grip on Raze's head strengthened and solidified as the Dark Lord resisted and leaned backward, powerful enough for the helmet to begin denting inward. The Force coiled more fiercely, pulling down on his head into his neck to compress it. These iron coils abruptly twisted as they pulled...
There he was, Raze himself, marching in a formation all his own. Always getting taller and stronger, year by year. When they'd met their heights were hardly different at all and now the half-Sephi towered over near everyone. It was such a strange thing to remember, here at this moment. So odd to...
It exceptionally was rare for the Empress to call a meeting. Or, more accurately, unheard of. She hadn't done so since taking the throne. All the same, Stolas had a decent enough idea of what might be discussed. He left his armour's helmet and mantle outside the council chambers, going through...
Morgan scowled at the floor tiles as Malou explained the symbols etched into them were numbers. He squinted around the rest of the room. Nothing to be seen or sensed, just the tiles. Morgan decided, very arbitrarily, that he didn't like the tiles.
They looked to move downward, not around like a...
'Victim', Morgan thought, was putting things a little overzealously. As funny as her quote-unquote 'news' could be, her older work in particular relied a little too much on blatant speculation. At least she wasn't nearly as bad as that bombastic hack working for the Weekly Trumpet or whatever it...
Morgan didn't have much to say to Emryc's return comment. Or anything, actually. Rather he found a sort of tranquil peace in the silence that followed and his own thoughts on the matter. Briefly he regarded his precisely trimmed claws and found he was in no rush to find a reason to cut them...
Morgan flashed Andruil a pleased grin at her acceptance of the gift. She even wore the hat, officially adding to the festive atmosphere of this Life Day gathering. Meanwhile, Artorigas' tense expression and excuse were patently brushed aside by the Firrerreo Councilor. Morgan was infamously...
Morgan swung to the rhythm, a steady back and forth swing of hips paired with smooth but simple steps. A turn brought him back around to face where he'd come from. He was pleased to find Zaid ended up following him to the floor. His buzz encouraged the amused smirk on Morgan's lips at seeing the...
Morgan's hands kept themselves busy doing one thing or another as they walked, fiddling the mask or rolling the cane around between his fingers to the tune of some song only he was listening to. Golden eyes freely wandered wherever they willed, looking for interestings stalls or foods to try...
Slender fingers idly brushed stray strands of fake cobwebs off the mask from when he'd run into the wall, Morgan's hands finding something to do when he was otherwise distracted. Whatever uncertainty was left about this unexpected meeting was brushed away with the webs once gold and silver met...
DANCE MUSIC
Morgan smoothly dismissed offers of elegant flutes of champagne- it may as well be juice- and asked for spiced brandy in its place. Firrerreon fortitude and metablism meant standard wines lacked much punch. As for pregnancy problems, well....
He had only an academic knowledge...
The overdramatic face-off between twitchy Tognath and tall Orcolan seemed increasingly weighted toward the former doing something foolish. At least, right up until an ominous horking that reminded Morgan of a sick cat came from off to the side. A yellow projectile careened, spinning almost...
A few last things were noted down, at which point Stolas lowered his datapad. He had what he needed for the moment. There were a series of angles and openings, and now the two Sith only needed to find the cracks to slip through.
"If we can access one of her closer handmaidens, we can plant a...
Outside on the street, the rumble of an airspeeder came to a halt as a droid parked it into place. Morgan stepped out the side, black boots scuffing against the sidewalk. The Firrerreo adjusted the well-used and well-kept aviator jacket over top a tailored button-up and trousers, having only...
MUSIC
After the theatrical events of the last party, Morgan had wandered off somewhere rather than stick around in the limelight. Considering that and a return to more behind-the-scenes work, mostly done remotely from a ship these days, the Firrerreo figured he might as well show up for...
The subtle look on probably-Emryc's face was entertaining. It wasn't really his expression, actually, so much as the way he held himself, where his eyes went, how long he looked. It was almost funny. If that hadn't done it, the candidly straightforward and borderline awkward way he showed...
The probe droid following along with Ryo's group floated in after him, sensors and photoreceptors running to sweep over those in the area. Faces caught on camera were tagged and sent back while motion trackers noted the direction of people fleeing the scene within range. A section of military...
Morgan scowled at the holoscreen in his personal study, a walnut he'd been carefully cracking open shattering between his fingers. The 'news' that Emryc wasn't asexual was hardly news at all. Frankly, if he was, the Firrerreo would be somewhere north of flabbergasted and fairly impressed...