Open Social Sullust A Good Day's Aftermath

[Wiley Winnz]

"The pleasure is mine" He said to the woman. The Marauder gave a little chuckle at the clinking of their glasses. "And good company" Wiley's glass would raise a little bit more in response to Renfry's toast.

When she asked about Sullust he cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, so you heard about that? Fraid not. Shot down a Jedi though. I'll tell yah, there's nothing like seein' those four pink engines just..." Wiley made an classic dive bomb build up whistle before doing an explosion. The X wing was one of the ships closely associated with the Rebels and the Resistance. But the Sith's eyes dropped a bit as he remembered his ship was fairly wrecked. And like that his glass is empty and swiftly filled again by the bottle in his other hand.

Wiley looked on at the party that was continuing to build. So much had happened in such a short time. Dancing had begun and the sight of the higher echelons of the Sith Order getting dirty made the man looks sideways at Renfry and then Lyra. "Alright. I suppose I know a dance or two." The lean Sith set his glass and bottle aside. Darth Malicia was there and so was everyone else. The image of Kravos dancing would be a hard act to follow but hopefully nobody had been paying attention to that. Yeah right.

@Dread @Phoenix

 

[Asminys]

Asminys watched the kicked puppy fly into the hands of another Sith, who looked at it for a moment before tossing it further. The corner of his lip tugged upwards slightly as he watched the small dog fly. That tension disappeared however as another Sith caught the dog and returned it to its owner. He should have crushed its skull when he had the chance. To further his irritation, the putrid crawl of Darth Malicia's (@Dread ) voice crawled its way into his head to taunt him. He pushed her taunts away from his mind, thought he did not ignore her earlier threat in his mind. He would be watching her.

A curl of power, familiar in its icyness, whispered from the dance floor. Asminys eyes returned to the dancefloor just in time to catch the red-headed Sith woman (@Orbit ) lower Emryc's (@Sreeya )helmet back into place, a flash of his carved jawbone visible for the briefest moment. His eyes narrowed slightly as the pretty puppy saver (@Mr. Teatime ) took the woman's place, his movements and footwork reminiscent of a lightsaber duel, though not in a style that Asminys recognized. The dance was powerful yet pretty. Asminys watched as the puppy saver even challenged Emryc's lead in the dance and attempt to take command of the social ritual.

A voice spoke out from beside him, just out of arms reach. He glanced over and away from the dance briefly, his red-gold eyes burned with a simmering menace as he looked at her. It was the young red-headed woman (@GABA )who had been on the dancefloor earlier. His gaze briefly flickered down to her dress, noting the bare shoulders and thin straps that supported the garment.

"Who is this miserable someone I remind you of. And where are they so I can put them out of their misery." He responded, his tone surly as he returned his eyes to the dancefloor and drained the rest of his champagne in one smooth pull. Handing the empty glass off to a random acolyte who happened to be passing by, his glare sent the man scurrying away without questioning the sudden empty glass in his hand.

Catching sight of a nearby server carrying more flutes of the bubbly stuff, Asminys waved two of his fingers on his left hand at the waist, lightly lifting two glasses off of the carrying tray. They glided smoothly over to the Sith Lord, one gently landing in his hand, the other traveling past him to hover in front of the red-headed dress wearing Sith, where it would remain until she grabbed it. "You may call me... Darth Asminys," He hesitated on the title, tasting it for the first time as the new addition passed through his mouth. "I understand it is customary to offer the lady a drink." He said without looking at her.

His eyes were on the dancefloor.

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc knew as soon as the smile arrived on Morgan’s lips, the true dance would begin. The fire had ignited in his eyes, a fire that rapidly spread throughout his entire body and into his very movements. He felt Morgan escape his grasp, and Emryc maintained his icy demeanor, shifting just to track the man with his eyes, body pivoting to follow.

He kept the hand out just as Morgan caught it again, spinning back towards him till they were temporarily close. The golden eyes were far closer than they ever had been before, and he felt his touch press into his shoulder. He kept his free hand at his side, knowing Morgan was still toying with him, twirling out while gripping onto his left hand.

The shift back was that of a practiced warrior’s, Emryc’s own feet stepping along the axis of a combatant that wished to keep the enemy outside of the inner guard. Left foot forward, right foot back almost at a 45 degree angle reminiscent of a teras kasi stance. He saw the shifts in Morgan’s body as he moved to the music, each bend and backstep practiced and measured before he lifted their arms up. Emryc didn’t fight it, spinning in on a pivot to draw in close to Morgan.

He saw the look on Morgan’s face, his own steely visor always unwavering and difficult to read. Emryc grabbed a hold of both of Morgan’s hands as he stepped back to begin the lead once again. He moved fluidly back, using his back foot as an anchor to spin Morgan around, raise one arm and drop the other to trap Morgan's own arms against his chest with his layered on top. Morgan’s back was pressed against Emryc’s chest, allowing the firrerreo to gaze out away from the dance floor while Emryc’s focus remained on him.

The moment lasted only for a moment before he spun Morgan out again, to face him. He released one of the hands, sliding one of his legs in to close the distance and bring his free hand up to grip Morgan below the opposite shoulder blade. He challenged Morgan to his own footwork, quickly stepping forth with practiced precision in the form of a duelist kata that Morgan would rapidly have to react to in defense and backstep.

Emryc continued this on for a moment before he abruptly pushed Morgan in towards the arm that supported his back, one of his feet sweeping in between the legs in the opposite direction to make the Firrerreo suddenly fall backwards. Emryc released him entirely, spinning around in a graceful pivot to allow Morgan to catch that weightless feeling as he would fall backward towards the floor. Too sudden even for his natural reflexes to save him.

Only a couple feet up from the ground and Emryc finished the spin, his hand coming up to catch Morgan, his own body leaning it to hold him in a dip, knee coming up beneath him. Emryc leaned in close, metal visor mere inches away from Morgan’s face as if to say with a comfortable arrogance, “If you insist, nightingale.”

He didn’t linger there, flipping Morgan up from the dip and into a spin to shift him to his other hand. Firrerreo or not, Emryc would make the man feel as if he weighed as light as a feather. Through it all, his demeanor never shifted, an icy chill to match the stoic helmet he wore. Passion and intensity only bled into the way he kept his grip on Morgan, in the way he tugged him in, the way he lingered when he held a pose.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Elina Zelle]

Elina decided that her decision to stay and watch was the correct one as she had a front seat to the spectacle. Emryc was swept away by Morgan and the show began with the both of them almost a blur. They read off each other perfectly and performed moves she didn't know that the two of them could perform. It was quite a sight and once she enjoyed it immensely as she knew what was underneath the mask at that point and the skill that was displayed between the two of them.

But as it all continued, a simple thought continued crossing Elina's mind, Shit, I really only got just the basics, didn't I? She began to think she shouldn't have given him up so easily. But as they began to slow down, she smiled and lightly clapped a few fingers against an open palm of hers before turning away. It was an addicting watch but one she would need a break one before she was pulled back in. She got what she most desired and sated her curiosity of what was under the mask and specifically thought of those silver eyes.

Elina made her way over to the bar. She ordered two whiskeys and when she received both glasses, she emptied one in the other and slid the glass back. When she turned back around, her golden eyes scanned across the crowd once more. She took sips from her glass and felt the familiar burn travel all the way down her throat and to her stomach. Elina's eyes eventually caught @Darth Malicia, and she tilted her head slightly, curiosity once again flourishing through her and the need to sate it.

With ease, she pushed off the counter of the bar and made her way over to her. She stood next to the other Darth, the one known as Asminys. Elina gave the man a nod of respect but turned her attention to the woman as a smile flashed across her face and pressed the edge of her glass against Malacias before taking her free hand with hers and giving a small bow.

"Pleasure to meet you, my Lord. I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. My name is Elina." Her golden eyes locked with Malicia's, clearly intrigued.

 

[Renfry]

She listened to Wiley talk about what had happened at Sullust. Her eyebrows rose in response to his story. So he did manage to shoot down a Jedi. Even if it wasn't a kill, that was impressive. Piloting wasn't exactly Renfry's specialty.

Renfry quirked her eyebrow as the redhead mentioned that she was brought here by Emryc who was her master.

Master Emr... oh, you poor girl, she said with an amused smile and chuckle. Renfry could absolutely imagine what Emryc was like as a mentor, and she certainly didn't envy Red.

Shame, she said as Red mentioned that she didn't feel like dancing, but Wiley did.

Excellent! she said to him, making her way over to the dance floor. She drained the remainder of her glass and set it on a passing tray as she made it to the dance floor. She immediately began moving to the rhythm, letting the music flow through her.

@GABA @Darasuum

 

[Darth Tiamat]

When he turned to look at her, Lyra knew for certain he was the kind to drown kittens just to see how long it took them to die. She felt incredibly exposed when he eyed her, she knew she already looked a bit out of place in the sea of black and grey...maybe some red. However, she felt even more like a beacon against his presence. He spoke in response, asking who this individual was so he could put them out of their misery.

Lyra filed that response under 'things only Sith say' and as his gaze returned to the dance floor, so did her own, watching the show in the center. "The person is not real, but from myth of a warrior who was casted from the heavens and when he landed, his skin was burned from the ash, leaving marks much like your own." the acolyte explained as he finished his flute of champagne; she glanced upward, feeling he towered feet over her with just his presence, "Its a story of revenge, betrayal, loss..."

Her attention was taken to the floating glasses of champagne, one to him and then one to herself and Lyra picked it from the air and took a small sip. As he introduced himself as a Darth and the acolyte nearly choked on her drink, eyes widening in surprise, now feeling like a mouse in comparison to his presence. Unlike others, she did not fear being in his presence, even as small as she felt figuratively, she still knew how to navigate from being squashed. The acolyte quickly recovered her composure, bowing, "My Lord," she quickly formally greeted as he kept his focus on the dance floor, commenting on customs and Lyra was starting to wonder if social awkwardness was indeed norm among Sith, this wouldn't be the first nor the last unique interaction she would have. "Thank you, indeed it is." she confirmed and took another sip, her own gaze falling back to the dance floor, falling silent for a moment.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked him, "We don't have to dance with them out there, we can do it right here if that is what my Lord would be most comfortable with." she suggested, trying to gauge his response.

@Arclight

 

[Darth Malicia]

Her brother hadn't answered, though Malicia knew she'd successfully annoyed him. That fact allowed her to focus on the party... for now. Asminys still needed to keep his guard up, she wasn't entirely satisfied with her revenge.

As fun as it was to be the victor between herself and her brother, her senses were brought to a red headed woman who approached her. Their glasses clinked together, which only prompted Malicia to take another long drink of hers. She didn't attend parties unless she had to, and this interaction was new to her so anything mind altering helped.

Regardless, Malicia didn't draw back. Instead, she flicked her eyes up and down the woman before replying, "The pleasure is mine."

She grabbed a bottle off the table beside them after, topping off the woman's drink then her own again. She had no clue what was in the woman's drink already and quite frankly didn't care. Liquor was liquor to her and she needed a lot to feel it. "Were you at Sullust?" she asked curiously.

@Arclight @Orbit

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan loved his little games he played, but it must be said that Emryc most frequently picked up how to play them best. The other Sith immediately took back the lead, not a step out of place. Morgan was spun and stepped with it, following the momentum around and back along the line of Emryc's arm. His arms came down to his chest beneath Emryc's own, his back pressed against him. A deep, chesty purring note reverberated where Morgan's back met Emryc's chest, easily heard through the medium of Kravos' chestplate. He pressed outward against the grip of Emryc arm and back against his body, spine curving and arms flexing, but remained under Emryc's control. He liked where he was and though he could fight against it, he chose not to.

As he spun in the armoured man's grip he caught several people watching, notably Darth Asminys. Morgan couldn't decide how much of his grumpy glowering was interest or anger, but he'd never met the guy himself and so his eyes passed him by- for now. He was playing with Emryc, but the grumpy types were often the most fun in the end.

The young Sith spun out of Emryc's embrace and looked against into the reflective visor, those golden daggers that almost seemed to see through things at times staring him right in the face. His stance mirrored Emryc's, hand in hand again just before the other man stepped in and brought his arm up to his shoulder blade. Morgan's arm on the same side turned and twisted down, fingers brushing purposefully against Emryc's elbow as it came in and settling against the man's waist. Cut.

Emryc stepped forward and Morgan retreated, back foot taking a half step back. His hips twisted, waist turned and coil, the front foot moved back and inward as if to knock Emryc's foot out of place. Instead it landed adjacent to it, accepting the space it stole. This left them very close together but he didn't think Emryc would mind all that much.

It was a tango, rhythmic and quick, a tango of blades where their arms and passions served as swords. There in front of Emryc Morgan caught fire, golden eyes like twin suns boring into the helmet and his silver skin flushed and mixed with gold. This was the the way to dance, two people mere steps away from trying to kill eachother. Emryc switched his footwork and Morgan followed his lead, left to right, back and back again, hips rocking in time with the music and legs moving as if to intercept but never following through. Parry.

Then Emryc took a deep step from his open side, sliding a leg behind his own and removing his feet from under him. His reflexes were fast, sure, but he'd been guided to fall by the man's arms before he'd let go. He was weightless in that moment and he made a gamble, not even trying to turn his body to roll. Emryc wouldn't have simply dropped him. Not because he cared, of course.

Because if he did, he'd lose.

Emryc swooped back in from his pirouette, arm coming in under him, and Morgan replied in kind. His arms shot out like a pair of coiled snakes and then relaxed, one settled against the side of his neck and the other hooked around the upper arm that held Morgan in place. He laughed excitedly, joyfully, the trilling call of the nightingale that Emryc had heard often enough by now. Emryc's helmeted face was close again, and he knew exactly what he needed to do next. Riposte.

He was lifted again and as he rose up his lips parted and his tongue tip touched teasingly, momentarily, across the front of Emryc's new helmet. Lifted, spun again, back to his feet, weightless, suffused in the feeling of someone else holding the leash. A tiger to a housecat.

Morgan's hands found their way around Emryc's waist while he was pulled in, face to face, this time making very deliberate contact. He purred into that sensitive ear of his beneath the helmet, low and burning, a baritone rumble a hair's breadth away from a wild growl.

"Don't burst your britches, soldier boy. Easier to take them off."

@Sreeya @Arclight

 

[Asminys]

Darth Asminys eyes stayed on the dancefloor as the young woman explained this mythic warrior who he apparently resembled. He scoffed. If he was such a great warrior, why had he allowed himself to be cast from the heavens. He continued to watch Emryc and his dance partner twirl in their combative dance. He recognized a bit of Teras Kasi in Emryc's movements. His eyes burned with a lazy malice as the pretty Sith's golden eyes crossed his, a simmering hatred that didn't seem deliberate towards any one particular target, and yet glared at everything at once.

He glanced over at the redhead (@GABA )when she requested a dance, though only if he so desired. His eyes bore into hers. He had heard her choke on his words when he let his title slip, yet she remained. Perhaps awaiting some form of dismissal. No. She wasn't afraid. Or rather, she controlled her fear.

"I only know one dance." He said, recognizing the similarities in the dancer's footwork and the steps of his own bladework. He imagined that dance with her, the sight of his crimson blade buried to the hilt between the swell of her breasts as she gasped out one final cry. His eyes lingered there for a moment as he chuckled, a short two-note laugh that was barely audible in his throat. "You wouldn't like it." He said as his eyes flicked up to hers for a moment.

Turning his eyes back to the dancefloor just as Emryc (@Sreeya ) swept pretty boy (@Mr. Teatime ) off his feet and dipped him down to put his covered face mere centimeters from the others. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight. His gaze slithered across their entwined forms as they held their pose for a moment. He burned the image into his mind as he contemplated his anger at the scene, how their bodies pressed and twisted together as the vaguely feline Sith teased the mask that Emryc wore. He would meditate on this.

"This warrior of myth," He glanced back to young woman who still stood beside him, "did he have a name?" He asked as he watched her eyes. Fear, yes. But she did not cower under his gaze.

"I believe you probably have one as well. Who are you." He said after a moment's contemplation. It was not voiced as a question or a request. His tone conveyed that he expected an answer and she would give it to him.

 

[Elina Zelle]

Thankfully, Malcina seemed at least slightly interested enough to continue the conversation at least. Their glasses clinked and Elina immediately brought it to her lips to down the whole thing in a go. The warmth from the liquid spread throughout her whole body and her bones, a nice feeling spreading throughout her. The Lord then grabbed a nearby bottle before topping them both off. While at least she knew how to drink and Elina raised her glass once more to take another sip.

When she was about Sullust, she couldn't but roll her eyes, even in front of the Darth. That was the first question everyone had and Elina wondered if any of the Sith knew anything outside of what their Order wanted. "Nope." She replied back nonchalantly with a quick shrug of her shoulders. "I was making sure I can pay my rent and such. Get's a little expensive this time of year." Elina was actually quite proud of her little pad and didn't want to lose it.

The bottle was still in Malicia's hand and she tilted her whole body at an angle slightly as she stared at the bottle for a moment. "You're not really a party type? Are you?" The Lord appeared to be drinking more to forget about everything over just having a good time at the party. "You may not remember the past few days after that." Elina couldn't help but make her comment with a hearty laugh as she wondered what the Darth was up to.

@Dread

 

[Darth Malicia]

"That's too bad," Malicia replied to her question. "I'm curious about the Jedi that attacked, particularly one of them," she added. She would've asked if the woman saw Max, at Sullust, or a man who looked like him. The Jedi Master that she througouly enjoyed the company of. Obviously, he didn't enjoy her company but that's what made it fun.

She didn't reply to the rent comment. It took a few seconds for her to even remember that rent was a practice that existed.

Her yellow eyes flicked between the crowd then to the woman when she commented again. "I can enjoy a party," she answered vaguely. She could enjoy a party, though usually when she wasn't there for strictly pleasure . "I could possibly enjoy this one too. Maybe if I drink enough to forget a few more days," she half-joked, not holding back her chuckle. Numbing her mind also numbed her hunger, and it hadn't missed the amount of life in the room.

"But dancing," she added, tipping her head somewhat towards the dance floor. A 'hmm' rang in her throat before she continued, "Maybe not tonight. Apologies if I disappoint."

@Orbit

 

[Elina Zelle]

Malicia informed her that she was curious about a Jedi that had performed in the attack at Sullust. Elina arched her eyebrow at her before slowly turning around to scan the entire room around them. None of them were Jedi, in fact, quite the opposite, and everyone appeared too drunk to even care about one at the moment. It was probably one of the first times she decided to keep quiet and just continue on drinking from her glass.

When the Lord commented that she could enjoy a party, Elina perked up slightly but it was quickly and quietly smothered as she only offered she could possibly enjoy it after she forgot about it. "I hope that's not for every party you attend." It didn't seem fun to her to forget the fun. The one they were at currently didn't seem that bad but Malicia was dealing with something that she couldn't sense at the moment, even though the force. It was partially because she was impaired and that reminded her to take another sip.

Malicia cast a glance to the dance floor, clearly thinking of what to do but she answered the question before it could be asked and told Elina not tonight. The firrerreo gave her a quick smirk as she was always game to dance but it seemed the Lord wasn't. "Don't worry, I've gotten used to disappointment." After a quick moment, Elina offered her a smile and quick bow, "Well, I'll leave you to your curiosity then." She then tipped her glass once more against Malicia's, "To forgetting." The glass was once more emptied down her throat.

"Hopefully you enjoy your night, my Lord." Elina gave her goodbyes before leaving the Lord's presence. She looked around the room and either found everyone else busy with another or on the dance floor but it didn't bother her. With her mentioning the pad, it put the thought of home inside her mind and her comfy couch. It was an appealing thought and became more so with each step. She had gotten her fill with what she wanted and she placed her glass down on a passing tray before making her way to the door.

@Dread

 

[Davin Crik]

Of all the places one could meet their master, it had to be a hive of debauchery. I suppose most are slaves to their vanity or pure pleasure, a night of passion to please the masses. The annoyance in his emotions seemed to stir as he made his way deeper into the cavity that was the Sith Base. As long as a Kowakian faced hound doesn't ask for a dance, I think things will go well...or I say something regrettably true, hurt a few feelings and become a pile of smoldering ash -- either way I don't see how this is a win for me.

The sound of the music seemed to boom and pierce the young Acolyte's ears as he entered the halls of the palace, his crimson eyes scanned across the room. He saw an awkward shell of a Sith standing off in a corner, his self-doubt full as he debated on whether or not he should approach anyone. How he survived the initial trials is beyond me, Davin thought to himself with a sigh.

All around various Sith of notoriety seemed to dance and drink -- times were bright for the Order, and whoever was someone could be seen among the crowd. I suppose I should head into the fray, see what trouble I could fine, see if I can find this so called Master of Mine. The Sith would smirk at the uncertainty of the night. Heh...Not even five seconds in and I'm already enjoying this. I guess I am a damn pretentious hypocrite.

 

[Darth Tiamat]

His eyes happened to settle on her chest for longer than the acolyte felt comfortable. She wasn't too sure where he was going, first mentioning he only knew one dance, but then mentioning she would not like it. Lyra was trying to figure out if that was an invite, insult, or threat. Her eyes narrowed, unamused by his fixation on her breasts. Thoughts turned in her mind as she slowly raised her glass to her front, interrupting any gazes to her chest. She tried to determine how to reply to such a cryptic statement, at least Emryc had some class.

Luckily his focus fell back on the mention of the warrior and after looking onto the dance floor, he turned his gaze back to her, inquiring about her name as well.

"I am Lyra, my Lord." she told him, complying with the request. "The warrior's name was Azazil." she informed, turning back to look at the others dancing. She had more information, but didn't delve into details of the ballet unless he showed interest. However, there was some pleasure in reminiscing. As one of her first shows, and though not the lead, it was memorable in several ways for the acolyte. She glanced back up at the warrior.

"What if I showed you the dance I know? You may like it and then you would know two dances and that is one more than that of your enemies." the acolyte tried once more, but was ready to back down if she was turned down a second time.

@Arclight

 

[Emryc Thorne]

The two men were a blur of movements, others stepping back to watch or simply get out of the way. They were light on their feet, moving with the grace that only came from being something other than human. They were warriors, they were lovers, they were enemies, they were brethren. It was a story, a mural rapidly painted to come together for anyone watching.

They spun, they touched, they moved with the song, weaving as one even when there was distance between them. Emryc held onto that trilling laugh from Morgan when he dipped the man, the melodious sound one that would anchor into his mind. He pulled him up and was again surprised by the bold lick to the steely helmet. It was a challenge in its own way, and the fire burned just as hot in his eyes. Emryc led and Morgan whirled around him, neither budging, neither yielding. Or so Emryc saw.

He felt Morgan’s hands around his waist, tugging him in. He was close to him now, very close, and he didn’t pull back. His chest rose and fell against the man's, the armored plating brushing against his clothing. Morgan’s words rumbled against his ear, intonation laced with a primal and raw desire. Emryc’s hand moved on its own accord, sliding up the man’s back till he found fistfuls of his hair. He clutched it so it was almost painful, a rare moment where his nature seeped in, the beast that roiled beneath several layers of ice. He tilted Morgan’s head back just a bit, but not too far to allow him to hear Emryc’s own deep baritone, “If only to make you sing for me.”

Emryc said nothing else, releasing him suddenly and stepping back. Morgan wouldn’t need him to remove the helmet to know there was a grin behind it. It was hard to tell who won the game, but Emryc certainly decided when he played and when he didn’t. He took steps backwards for a moment, tilting his head to appraise Morgan head to toe, making it obvious what he was doing.

And then he spun on his heel and left the dance floor.

He strode forth towards the bar and a nearby balcony to catch some air. He briefly passed by Lyra and Asminys contemplating social rituals, and he gave the slightest glance over in that direction before continuing onwards. It was an icy gaze that first lingered on Lyra and then on Asminys, likely for entirely different reasons.

Emryc walked out into the balcony to briefly gaze at the night sky before stepping back to lean against the wall. The helmet came off and was set on the ground next to him, his hair lined with sweat. He welcomed the cool air against his face for a moment before reaching into the folds of his clothing for a cigarra. There he stood quietly, watching plumes of smoke rising and disappearing into the clear sky as he gazed up at the stars.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Asminys]

"Lyra." He repeated, tasting the name as it crossed his lips. The young acolyte revealed the name of the warrior that he so resembled, this Azazil. He would remember that name as well. He appraised her again as she once more offered to dance, even going so far as to offer to teach him one, appealing to his pride as a warrior.

She was a bold one.

"Perhaps later." He said as he finished his champagne, eyes watching the end of the dance and catching Emryc's gaze linger on Lyra and then himself. Pieces clicked together in Asminys head as he put one and one together, Emryc paying heed to a lowly acolyte. He appraised Lyra again in a different light before handing her his now empty wine glass and walking away, offering only a brief parting word. "I would like to hear of this Azazil, another time."

Walking towards the balcony, Asminys stopped at the doorway. He leaned against the frame as his eyes trailed up Emryc's back, starting at the hem of his robe till it found the silver of his mane. Smoke rose from behind the back of his head, and Asminys imagined pulling his head back by the hair briefly, baring his throat for a blade.

Or a kiss.

"You wear the armor of your god." He commented from his place behind Emryc, recognizing the armor as one of those that the idols he worshiped was carved in its likeness. He could feel the cold aura that radiated off the robes and armor, the old energy that clung to those ancient things.

Asminys approached to the side, standing next to Emryc to look over at his face. "It's better without the helmet." He said as his eyes took in the site of Emryc wearing the ancient armor, his beautiful face and cold uncaring eyes revealed to the world again. He could see the sheen of sweat on his brow, the martial and energetic dance having driven the man to a sweat. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight.

@Sreeya @GABA

 

[Darth Stolas]

“If only to make you sing for me.”

Morgan's fingers slid off Emryc and he stepped back, that fiery smile still on his face and a shiver running down his spine. The other Sith appraised him for a moment and Morgan stepped another foot back, waist bending in a deep bow, right arm across his waist and left held out, his eyes up and looking at the armoured figure. A pose he held until Emryc stalked off and away from the dance floor.

He stood up straight, brushed off his shirt, and ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it after Emryc had pulled it in his own. His smile shifted into a grin, joyful and fierce. Their game had ended, and it had been truly great fun. But the dance was just beginning. Emryc had made that clear, whether he'd intended to or not.

I win, soldier boy. But so did you, I think.

He hummed in a satisfied sort of way, took note of Asminys going off to follow the armoured man, and then turned to do something else. In the midst of looking for the bar, he instead first found Renfry. From a passing server he snatched up a crystal glass of something, sniffed it, and downed it before clacking it back into place before they could protest. He wasn't quite done yet.

He stepped up to the woman, head tilted slightly and fangs barely visible in a smirk. His eyes still burned with the embers from his dance with Emryc, bright and intense as they regarded the woman from Dathomir.

"No escort today, Renfry?" he asked, slipping into a rhythm of movement to match hers. She was no duelist but she could be interesting all the same.

@Sreeya @Phoenix

 

[Renfry]

Renfry's eyes were closed, feeling the beat of the music as she moved. For a moment she was lost in her own world until she heard gasps and sounds that caused her to turn and look to see the "duel" between Emryc and Morgan. She smiled and shook her head, watching them for a moment before the song came to an end.

People seemed to be returning to their regularly scheduled dancing as the next song began to play. She smiled and went back to it when Morgan approached her. There was still fire in his eyes as he looked at her and her smirk matched his for the briefest of moments.

He slipped into beat alongside her and she watched his movements.

I don't need an escort to have fun, she said with a smile, moving closer to him as they both moved.

But if you're volunteering yourself, all the better, she said, stepping forward and letting her arms slide over his shoulders to wrap around his neck as they moved. @Mr. Teatime

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc could hear someone approaching, his sensitive ears picking up the movements. He didn’t turn to look, gaze still up on the stars that stretched out for miles. He lowered it briefly to look upon the vibrant lava in the distance. The planet was dead and found beauty in its own way. He heard a familiar voice ring out, the deep intonation and the simmering rage that always wove into it.

He ashed his cigarra before taking another drag, contemplating his words. Did Asminys truly know of Kravos? Over the years, there had been hints here and there that he perhaps grew up detached from the Sith teachings of old. Nevertheless, he was keen enough to pick up on the armor and that was something to note.

Emryc finally turned to look at Asminys when he spoke next, commenting on the lack of helmet. Asminys was one of the very few that grasped Emryc’s undivided attention. The half Sephi turned fully to face him, the wall behind him now. He was careful to blow the cigarra smoke in the other direction before gazing upon Asminys again, eyes as frosty as ever. They met the man’s golden hues before briefly traveling down to take in sight of his attire and those tattoos that he had come to memorize, his mind briefly traveling to times far from this place. His eyes quickly found Asminys’ again.

“Darth Asminys,” He said smoothly, lingering on the words, “I suppose you can finally boss me around now,” The hint of a smile tugged at his lips. He could sense there was rage simmering in him. Some of it was expected, but there were traces that suggested he was more withdrawn into his thoughts than usual.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Emryc asked as he took another drag. He hadn’t expected Asminys to even show up to a social gathering.

@Arclight

 

[Asminys]

Emryc turned to face him and Darth Asminys watched the Sith's eyes travel downward, a small smirk on his face as he watched those frosty eyes look at him. He couldn't tell what was going on behind them, but he could imagine as they flicked back up to his own.

"Strange that a title gives so much power." Asminys responded as Emryc lingered on the title, teasing him about who could order who around. He did not feel different than the hateful man who had filled his shoes before they had tacked Darth at the beginning of his name. "Somehow i don't see you bowing if I told you to get down on your knees." His nostrils flared with his eyes, a faint glimmer in them as he huffed at Ermyc's constant insolence while making an attempt to tease the man.

"I was asked to dance. Your apprenctice?" He asked as he watched Emryc smoke. He had seen the brief acknowledgment the man had given the red-head Lyra, who had stood next to him without cowering. Emryc's brow still shone with sweat as the smoke lazed around him, and Asminys wouldn't fail to say something.

"Did you enjoy your dance?" His eyes lingered on Emryc's brow before meeting the cold ones again, the simmer that boiled underneath his red-gold iris's perhaps rising a little higher.

@Sreeya