Ask Onderon Convergence

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

In the fading twilight of Onderon's starlit sky, Zorya stepped onto the soil of her birthplace for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Once a bastion of safety and fond memories, the planet's atmosphere now reeked of political unrest and impending chaos. The weight of her betrayal pressed heavily against her heart, and even though her exile left her devoid of means and allies, she had an unyielding spirit, sharpened by a singular purpose: retribution.

Making her way through the labyrinthine alleys of the Malgan Market, she was a shadow under the vast black cloak that enveloped her. Its fabric was as thick and lustrous as the void she had traveled, protecting her from prying eyes and unwanted attention. The market was awash in vibrant colors and a cacophony of sounds. Merchants hawked exotic spices, imported fabrics, and shimmering trinkets that captured the very essence of Onderon's eclectic soul.

Eavesdropping on a huddled group of nobles, Zorya gleaned fragments of gossip regarding the increasing hostilities among the city's elite. Their whispered apprehensions of a looming civil war were the ambient music of the market, their paranoia a testament to the city's fraying unity.

Amidst the various stalls laden with sumptuous textiles and intricate jewelry, Zorya's thoughts began to drift to a bygone era. She recalled her youthful escapades when she'd venture from the rustic tranquility of the countryside to the bustling metropolis of Iziz. Those were days of mischief and guile, where young Zorya, with her nimble fingers and keen sense of timing, would orchestrate elaborate pickpocketing schemes. The thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of a well-executed heist, the memory brought an ephemeral smile to her lips. It was here, in this very market, that she'd honed the art of subterfuge and deception. And even now, as she wandered amidst the familiar stalls, she mused if she still possessed those adept skills.

Yet, such flights of nostalgia were abruptly interrupted. The painful throb in her left hand yanked her back to the agonizing present. She glimpsed down, the charred skin of her hand still recovering from a searing third-degree burn. The grotesque mottling of her once supple flesh was a visceral reminder of her hubris, her errors. The burn not only marred her body but also stood as a testament to the betrayal she had faced and the trials she had endured. It was a pain so profound, it seemed to pierce the very sinews of her soul. A quiver of emotion threatened to break through her stoic exterior, but she forced it down, knowing full well that vulnerability was a luxury she could ill afford.

@LadyRen
.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve knew she had to depart soon. She had been on Onderon for a few weeks by now, having visited many different areas, having caused a bit of mayhem and mischief, having acquired a few credits here and there, and having met many interesting people - people who had met her under different names, people she had fooled, manipulated and robbed, people who are now looking for her...so just the usual, really.

However, the usual always came with a piece. She had left as little traces as possible, hidden her true identity, avoided too influential people and surveillance cameras and droids - but even if she was as careful as ever, it was time to move on soon, for a few days though, she intended to stay in the market district, right where it was usually way too busy reconize passing faces and where many street vendors selled their wares to a colorful crowd of different people.

There were some troubles brewing amidst the nobles and Maeve had made her experiences already- she had gathered intel, spicy information she intended to share bit by bit to people who paid well, but as she was strolling across the market, she was literally a doved-eyed nobody- nothing more than a pretty face looking like a regular traveler.

What appeared to be nothing but a stroll was yet another attempt to test the waters, so see whether there was anything else to gain, but perhaps she'd even turn in early tonight. Her gazed curiously drifted across the various stalls with Maeve attentively scanning for anything out of the ordinary, but so far she hadn't been very successful.

She was about to turn into a backalley to reach a different district of the market area, when she noticed a dark figure glancing down at her hand so as if in pain and sensing a little chance, Maeve decided she could at least try out the 'helpful stranger' ploy here. She thus swiftly approached the woman, her features perfectly worried as she asked, "Are you alright? I'm sorry...I really don't mean to intrude, I just thought I'd check in". Perhaps she was lost, that would be even better. She flashed her an empathetic grin, tilting her head to the side a little.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

Zorya’s eyes met Maeve’s. They were silent, yet suffused with an ageless wisdom. A flicker of apprehension grazed her thoughts as Maeve’s words broke her self-imposed exile of silence. Communicating with others was a gamble she seldom took these days, but circumstances called for a delicate balance between suspicion and interaction.

Deliberately avoiding the exposure of her left hand, Zorya lifted her right hand and began to execute a complex choreography of one-handed signs. Her movements were fluent, the gestures concise, yet artfully vague. The sign was a lesser-known dialect, one that only the initiated would comprehend. It conveyed the gist of her status: mute, and a passerby in search of nocturnal refuge.

As her right hand danced in the air, orchestrating her wordless reply, she felt a pang of vulnerability. Not only was she opening up the possibility of being identified, but her severely scorched left hand lay hidden like a dark secret, a glaring chink in her armor.

She felt the air grow thick around her, laden with the electric charge of calculated risk. The various stimuli of the market became all the more pronounced; the intermingled aromas of exotic spices and cooked meats, the distant cacophony of vendors hawking their wares, and the tactile sensation of the evening breeze skimming through her cloak. All of it amalgamated into a tense backdrop, making her hyper-aware of her immediate environment.

In her mind, the act of engaging Maeve was a potential double-edged sword. Would the stranger before her be an asset or another name on her ever-growing list of enemies? In the microcosm of silent communication they found themselves, each woman was an unreadable tome to the other, chapters of intentions concealed behind well-practiced facades.

Yet, Zorya's eyes, those fathomless pools of unvoiced resolve, were her most expressive trait. Even without O’bog, her mischievous and loquacious companion, her eyes spoke volumes that tomes of Sith lore could scarcely capture. They held an ocean of repressed emotions: hope and despair, strength and vulnerability, but most of all, a relentless determination to rewrite her destiny.

As her final sign concluded, her eyes returned to Maeve, scrutinizing her reaction, searching for the faintest ripple in the fabric of her façade. All the while, she remained aware of the choices that lay ahead, prepared for the spiraling consequences of this deceptively simple encounter.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

Even from afar Maeve had studied the woman. She didn't look particularly wealthy and too careful to be just a regular market visitor or tourist. She kept her face partly concealed and the long dark robe even cloaked the rest, so for Mave one thing was clear.

The stranger held secrets, secrets of possible value and as she always found herself drawn to such enigmatic strangers, her curiosity was simply piqued. Maeve was not the person who randomly helped a stranger out without any benefits, but she was the stranger that was willing to commence the gamble of whether or not this was an encounter worth having.

The woman began gesturing, not a single sound leaving her mouth. Maeve had picked up a few tricks with sign language through the years, but only in basic sign language, so this dialect was foreign to hers. She wasn't convinced the stranger was mute, yet was keen on enquiring the reason of her acute muteness, but for now she played along as the other woman didn't seem any less interested in her either.

"Is there anything I can help you with? I know these places are crowded...it's sometimes easy to get lost or a little overwhelmed...perhaps a little drink would help?", she suggested, her tone perfectly friendly and features warm. She knew she was once again playing a dangerous game, so for now she treaded lightly, knowing she couldn't cause any bigger stirrs here. Maybe she couldn't even understand her, so she did gesture a drinking motion while the actress prefered her actual performance. Where this night would take here, she didn't know, but there was a mildly frequented bar nearby they could use to escape the full publicity.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

Zorya's garnet eyes, sharp and perceptive, scrutinized the woman before her. Maeve's proposition wasn't entirely unexpected. There was something magnetic about her, a certain energy that lured others toward her, like moths to an indigo flame. A bitter curl of her lip, a nod, that was all it took for her to tacitly agree. The Force knows, a torrent of liquid fire could help douse the cacophony within her.

Allowing Maeve to guide her, Zorya felt a peculiar sensation she had not felt in years: an eerie normalcy. The bar was a veritable sanctuary from the bustle of the marketplace. Its atmosphere was hushed and intimate, with soft lilac lights pooling around each table and the faint scent of fermented juniper berries lingering in the air. The murmurs of conversation and gentle clinking of glassware painted a serene soundscape.

Finding a booth by the corner, Zorya slid in, her gaze slowly wandering over the patrons. It was oddly grounding, observing the quotidien dance of beings lost in their own narratives, oblivious to the stormy vendetta she harbored. When was the last time she had indulged in such banal voyeurism? A lifetime ago, it seemed.

A young waitress, with hair that shimmered like liquid metal under the dim lighting, approached them with an expectant smile. The waitress awaited Zorya's order, but the Exile found herself uncharacteristically stalled. Years of relying on O’bog had made her unaccustomed to mundane exchanges. For a fleeting moment, she felt raw, exposed, her regal bearing humbled by the simple task of ordering a drink.

Her lips parted, yet no sound emerged. She felt a desperate urge to convey her wishes, and with a hint of frustration, her hand moved gracefully, attempting to articulate her desires. Forming an 'L' with her thumb and index finger, she gestured it to her lips – a crude mimicry for a drink. She hoped Maeve, or perhaps even the intuitive waitress, would comprehend her silent plea.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

Maeve was perhaps a little surprised -positively surprised- by how her new found friend didn't refuse the stranger's offer. It was perfect. Her foot was in the door, even if there were countless questions in her head, but the daring brunette had never minded such dangers.

She thus let the hooded woman towards the bar she had passed earlier, a fairly mundane place with a crowd as heterogeneous as it could be. A wild mix of species and perhaps even of reasons why those guests were in here mingled in various places inside, a lively chatter accompanying the scene.

They could approach an empty booth and as soon as they took a place, they were joined by a waitress that immediately asked for orders. Maeve's blue eyes drifted back to her mysterious company, her features soft yet her mind quickly analyzing the woman's struggle. She still hadn't spoken and continued to appear as though she couldn't, which was why Maeve - as the polite savior - obviously had to interfere.

"Hey there. We'll take two Iziz's delights, please", she relieved the other of her struggle by going for something just lightly alcoholic, fruity and light - the perfect refreshment for those in need of a little breather and ordered it with a friendly, yet faked smile. Maeve had gotten to love the cocktail throughout her stay and she already knew she was going to miss the local delicacies, but she was used to the drill.

The waitress wandered off to prepare their drinks and she was hoping the other was fine with her choice. Maeve watched her leave until her full attention went back to the other woman seated across from her, her head slightly tilted to the left. She wasn't from here, at least that was what Maeve assumed, but what kept nagging her were the sheer endless possibilities this encounter could offer.

"We might not be able to communicate a lot...but your eyes seem to tell a thousand stories". Maeve didn't say it as though she intended to flirt, but it was sheer fascination accompanying her words. Despite wearing one of her usual façades, there was truth in her words. There had to be a reason behind her having decided to follow Maeve into this bar. It was as if there was some deep trauma hidden behind her silence, perhaps waiting to be unraveled in the mundane normalcy of a chat in a bar, and yet it wasn't just Maeve that seemed interested in the exchange. Maeve was fairly aware that she was playing with fire, yet she had to know more.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

Zorya's gaze, sharp and penetrating, fixed upon Maeve as she took the reins, easing the awkward exchange with the waitress. The scent of mild intoxicants and a hint of exotic spices wafted from a nearby table, intermingling with the sweet, metallic aroma of the freshly polished table they occupied. The hum of distant conversations filled the room, punctuated by the soft cadences of laughter and an occasional clink of glasses.

When the drinks arrived, a whiff of tangy citrus, combined with a sweet undertone of an unknown fruit, teased Zorya's senses. Iziz's delight – aptly named and delicately intoxicating. The crystalline glass was cold to the touch, a striking contrast to the simmering warmth of the drink within. She took a tentative sip, the fruity elixir dancing on her taste buds, its effervescence tickling the roof of her mouth.

Maeve's words, imbued with genuine curiosity and a touch of intrigue, pierced through Zorya's reverie. Her eyes, those crimson pools of passion and tumult, bore into Maeve, a subtle challenge and acknowledgment of her astuteness. A shadow of a smirk played on her lips, and for a fleeting moment, Zorya seemed to wear her vulnerability like an ephemeral cloak, giving a tantalizing glimpse into the tempest within.

Drawing a deep breath, Zorya reached into a pocket of her robe, retrieving a small, ornate notepad. With an equally intricate stylus, she inscribed a brief message, every curve of her script revealing a meticulous nature, honed over decades of clandestine activities. Handing the note over, it read, "In silence, much is said. Words often fail where eyes succeed."

Zorya, though momentarily stripped of the towering presence she once held in the Sith Order, seemed to regain an iota of her past command with that single note. Her resplendent gaze remained fixed on Maeve, acknowledging the brunette's boldness in seeking out the stories that lay beneath.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

The woman held her gaze, her eyes piercing, scrutinizing even but Mave knew how to stand such things. Unwavering, she didn't flinch, keeping up her appearance as the friendly helping hand while her inner curiosity was growing desperate. Without the exchange of actual words, this wouldn't lead anywhere, hence she was about to draw her datapad before the other drew a notepad.

The notepad alone captivated the intrigued brunette before she curiously watched her write. Her movement was calculated, just as enigmatic as whatever laid in her gaze and the gravitational pull of the secrets approaching its crescendo. There was a weird kind of tension that just kept lingering between the two of them, but as she finally slid the pad over, Maeve's eyes eagerly scanned the message.

The note was cryptic, yet powerful and true. Eyes had the power to speak volumes without even intending it - Maeve understood that part perhaps better than most as she was no stranger to contact lenses that veiled her true gaze. Today, she wore none, perhaps that was why her intentions were clearer than usual, but with the mysterious' woman's reply, she received the exact confirmation she had needed - she understood her reply as an invitation to seek answers to the questions in her head, but she also knew well enough that information never came without a price...

"How very true", she lowered her voice, her voice growing more serious, her gaze slightly less artificially friendly. "You're not a local, are you? It's hard to explain...but someone it seems to me like we're quite alike in terms of why we're here". She was direct now, yet her true intentions were just as veiled as hers. Perhaps skipping a little forward was helpful to the both of them though, as Maeve usually wasn't extraordinarily patient.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

A low hum, like a distant drone, echoed through the space, filling the crevices of the dimly lit establishment. The intoxicating blend of aromas in the bar – a fusion of fermented spirits, perfumes, and the occasional hint of metallic rust – was a far cry from the sterile and ceremonial halls Zorya once frequented.

Maeve's shift in tone did not escape Zorya's perceptive hearing. It resonated in her, evoking memories of countless covert meetings, where spoken words took on multiple layers of meanings, each dripping with subtext and hidden agendas. Zorya remained unfazed, though, her posture maintaining a regal elegance and steely determination. Her eyes, however, betrayed the faintest hint of melancholy, a glimmer of battles past.

Silently, she wrote another message, her script even more precise, as if each word were a delicately crafted work of art. Sliding the note across the polished table, it read, "Onderon's embrace is nostalgic, yet unfamiliar. We might indeed share more than the shadows of this room suggest."

The ambient sounds of the bar – the tinkle of glasses, the muffled conversations, and the occasional bursts of laughter – seemed to fade away, replaced by the palpable tension building between the two women. Zorya's senses were attuned to every nuance of their encounter. The texture of the table beneath her fingertips, the subtlest change in Maeve's breathing, the dimly glowing lights casting ethereal shadows across the room; all painted a vivid panorama, a stark juxtaposition to the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Casting a sidelong glance, Zorya's crimson eyes settled on a musical instrument poised in a corner, a lone relic from a bygone era. The harp's strings stood silent, waiting for a master's touch to evoke melodies from its soul.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

Behind the veil of unspoken truths, the two women seemed to forge a connection of understanding strangers wouldn't grasp. The endless stories lingered in her eyes, the infinite opportunities intrigued her and her analytical mind was thrilled about the riddles her notes posed.

Nostalgic. So she's been here before. At least that was how she interpreted the line of the embrace. To Maeve, this place wasn't extraordinarily special, yet another stop on her seemingly endless journey, yet she hadn't cursed enough of a stir to leave just yet and it seemed like there were some more things worth exploring.

Unfamiliar. So things had changed. Maeve met her gaze again, her voice still lowered and with her paying attention to who was around them, ensuring they weren't overheard, but out of safety reasons still sticking to veiled answers. "Unfamiliar, yes. I felt the urge to explore the unfamiliarity, to unveil it. Instead of just offering a stranger a refreshment, I might cast light over the shadows". Maeve had gathered a lot of information during her stay here - she had even gotten in touch with house Taevarion, the wolves, one of Onderon's most prestigious noble families. She was waiting for a sign. For her enigmatic gaze to light up, for a feature in her veiled face to change. Was it something big she was after?

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

The ambiance of the room felt thick with uncertainty, like the muggy air preceding a tempest. Murmurs from adjacent tables wove a complex lattice of conversations, but amidst that cacophony, it was Maeve's voice that resonated most with Zorya, pulling at strings of recollections she had so meticulously kept tucked away. As Maeve spoke of the Taevarions, Zorya's eyes, pools of flowing magma, shimmered momentarily.

The very mention of the name triggered an olfactory memory: the heady blend of rare incense and aged wood, synonymous with the Taevarion estate, a place once akin to a sanctuary for her. Yet, this past sanctuary was now the very crux of her clandestine return.

A barely perceptible tremor graced her fingertips, a physical manifestation of the emotional whirlwind inside her. Drawing another deep breath, she felt the cool Onderonian air filling her lungs, mingling with the lingering aromas of spices and spirits from the bar.

With an unhurried grace, Zorya inscribed another note, her penmanship as elegant and intricate as before. Handing it to Maeve, the message read, "Bridges once crossed can become treacherous upon return. However, darkness can be dispelled, not by avoiding the shadows, but by facing them."

She took a contemplative sip from her drink, the effervescence of the beverage dancing on her palate, momentarily distracting her from the weight of the situation. A wistful smile threatened to curve her lips as she remembered a time when life was simpler, before intrigues and secrets became her daily bread.

The soundscape of the bar seemed to ebb and flow around them, the harmonious melody of glasses clinking, patrons laughing, and distant music providing a poignant backdrop to their clandestine exchange. The incandescence from the hovering lights reflected upon Zorya's face, illuminating her resolute yet contemplative expression.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

It was as if their conversation wouldn't make any sense to anyone possibly overhearing the pair as ever word carried many different layers of meaning. None direct truths spoken, just one enigmatic metaphor following the next, and still what lingered was the mutual understanding.

Facing the shadow? Maeve couldn't help but to nod after her turquoise gaze had drifted down to take the delicately written words of her partner in. Mimicking her, she took a sip as well, the sweet and sour harmony offering just the right refreshment for keeping the mind cool. Maeve generally found travellers interesting, but this one was different.

The question that still lingered was whether she was mute or just preferring the written manifested word after some short-lived verbal exchanges. "Then we'll leave the light out and confront the shadows instead". If that was what she preferred, Maeve didn't bother doing it her way. She could be of use for whatever and was no stranger to the dark.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

A complex tableau of sentiments crisscrossed Zorya's visage, resembling ripples in a pool into which a stone had been casually tossed. Maeve's affirmation to confront the shadows seemed both genuine and intriguing, adding further dimensions to the quagmire of uncertainty Zorya navigated. Maeve’s willingness to delve into obscurity was a welcome change; too often people preferred the sanitizing glow of artificial illumination.

As she weighed her next words, Zorya caught the waft of roasted nuts and aged whiskey, the robust smells of the bar coalescing into a poignant juxtaposition of comfort and decadence. It was a blend that should have unnerved her but strangely resonated with her current equilibrium of anticipation and hesitancy.

Finally, with a hand steadier than her fluttering thoughts, she wrote, "Confronting shadows often leads to paths less trodden. To go alone is a risk, but company may render it an expedition. Are you ready for a journey that promises nothing but challenges?"

The parchment, now laden with the ink of tacit inquiries, was gently nudged toward Maeve. At the same time, the jazz-infused melodies from a piano in the far corner wafted over, both haunting and soothing. The piano’s song seemed to be almost in dialogue with her own introspective thoughts, elevating the ephemeral ambiance into a near-ethereal experience.

For Zorya, this was more than a mere dialogue; it was a dance, an interplay of light and shadow, a composition of notes both sharp and flat. The scales of decision teetered precariously between realms of uncertainty, prompting her to weigh her next steps with prudence. The haunting aromas, the intricate conversations, and the subtle hints of forthcoming complication were like a shot of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Her eyes, now acclimated to the dimly lit space, met Maeve’s. No longer just reflective surfaces, they seemed to beckon, to question, to dare.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

Again, the stranger pondered on her words, her features veiled by the fabric yet her eyes telling a whole story. Why trust a stranger? Maeve knew best that it came with many risks, and yet even with the few words exchanged, it seemed like this was different.

Her hand started drafting again, lacing the note with more letters that simply carried so much meaning behind all those layers of significance. Maeve's heartbeat began to quicken as the note was slided over, her eyes eagerly taking everything in for her brain to process. Verbally, it was a one-sided conversation, but her companion didn't say any less with the few enigmatic mysteries she outlined.

"Challenges have accompanied me all my life. The greenest valleys are always nestled between the most perilous mountains". Finally came her reply, a hint of excitement washing over her. It was the familiar thrill that always kept her going, drove her further. She was chasing thrills, and this seemed more than promising.

Her gaze was captivating, as if offering a thousand unspoken promises of things beyond her understanding or grasp. Who was she? And where was this even going? Maeve didn't know, and she knew she wouldn't get answers like this, but she was willing to venture in and find out.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

A profound, almost palpable, energy lingered in the air between the two women. Maeve's fervent declarations had succeeded in pulling Zorya even deeper into the whirlpool of intrigue and yearning. Zorya felt the resonance of Maeve's spoken truisms as if they had woven their way into the sinews of her own story. Her fingers delicately brushed the edges of the notepad before she began to write, a fine script making its serpentine way across the page.

The musk of old wood and the velvety allure of dark velvet curtains infused the dim space. A faint chirping echoed from a distance, hinting at the wilderness and forgotten tales of Onderon.

"As shadows grow longer with the setting sun, so do tales become more convoluted over time," she penned. "I seek a lost chapter of my own history. The wolf's howl may seem distant, but echoes of forgotten kinship are never silent."

Setting the notepad down, she reached into the inner lining of her cloak, producing a tarnished silver pendant – an emblem of a small bronze lightning bolt. Her eyes, more communicative than any vocal cords could be, implored Maeve's understanding.

For Zorya, Onderon was not just another place, nor was her quest a mere adventure. It was a pilgrimage into the fragmented mosaic of her own existence, seeking a shard of her identity amid the grand edifices and hidden vaults of Onderon's nobility. She was looking for answers, not just for herself, but for the shadow of a lineage suppressed by decades of silence.

She needed an ally, someone as adept at deciphering the arcane as she was at navigating the treacherous waters of political intrigue. And in Maeve, a kindred spirit seemed to shimmer into view, someone who grasped the subtleties of what remained unspoken.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

For once came a realization that was even more definite about herself. The implications had been clear throughout their whole conversation, but now Maeve had the certainty on how the woman's history wasn't just aligned with a planet, but with a certain house she had gotten quite familiar with.

Her eyes lit up ever so slightly as she reached for the note, her skin grazing the edges while her eyes took in its content. Kinship. Her past intertwined with the Wolves and Maeve's habit of intertwining her presence with House Taevarion made this whole meeting seem like a fate encounter.

"Let's go find their voices again then", another double etendre, given that the other woman didn't use words to communicate. Maeve was incredibly intrigued by the little tale she had begun to share - nothing more than a glimpse or a fragment, but it pulled Maeve in like a satellite. They both wanted answers, she wanted credits, but the Wolves apperently had both to answer.

She reached for her drink and took another sip, the sweet, light liquid still bearing a huge contrast to their enigmatic, dense exchange, but it was just the right combination. "I've got many hidden talents, and I promise they could be all yours if I receive what I'm looking for".

She didn't even exactly know what she'd sign up for, but she had a feeling the woman knew Maeve was looking for some kind of payment in return. She had her foot in many doors and she could help getting her in, which seemed to be exactly what her newfound companion wanted.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

A mischievous glint sparked in Zorya's eyes, contrasting sharply with their usual veil of introspection. Maeve's candid assertion hinted at a treasure trove of talents she wielded, and the allure of a mutually beneficial alliance was undeniable. "Compensation, is it?" The question was inscribed with Zorya's flowing hand. "The past's cache, obscured by time's nebulous mists, is often brimming with relics and riches alike."

The atmosphere in the room had shifted from an ambiguous dance of understanding to one of tacit partnership. Amid the dim light, the aroma of brewed teas mingled with the hint of the approaching evening rain.

Suddenly, a playful smile curled Zorya's lips – an expression almost alien on her previously guarded visage. In a gesture as unexpected as it was whimsical, she winked at Maeve. Without warning, Zorya seized her companion's hand with a gentle but firm grip, the cool touch of her fingers sending a jolt of exhilaration.

Acting on an impulse, perhaps fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of their shared quest and the burgeoning camaraderie, Zorya propelled both of them toward the establishment's exit, evading the surprised glances of other patrons and staff. Their drinks, their brief reprieve from the weight of secrets and quests, were left behind, now mere memories in the tapestry of their unfolding narrative.

The street outside was dimly lit, the cobblestones shining with the sheen of fresh rain. The duo's footsteps echoed in the narrow alleyways, the sound harmonizing with the faint murmur of Onderon's nocturnal life. Their destination remained uncertain, but the path ahead was indubitably paved with revelations and trials.

Zorya, leading the way, felt an exhilaration she hadn’t in years. With Maeve by her side, the key to Onderon's whispered secrets seemed tantalizingly close. And as the crescent moon cast its silvery glow upon the two, they ventured deeper into the heart of a city, a history, and a destiny entwined with veiled truths and forgotten legacies.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

The cocktail wasn't too strong, but what intoxicated her was their conversation and the silent promises made. She wondered whether it had been the Force that had guided her intuition to not only approach the woman, but to lead her towards the tavern, yet she had never managed to grasps the Force's invisible tendrils and its mysterious nature that usually raised more questions to her than she could possibly answer.

The woman's reply made her nod in shared agreement- while one was looking to unveil the treacherous secrets of the past, the others was ready to help with the prospect of payment in her mind. Business had been good for her lately, but it wasn't just materialistic needs she craved, but some more leverage or influence that could help her tip the tides.

The woman suddenly moved her hand and clasped hers and a quiet gasp escaped her lips as the ocean eyes once again suddenly on the other's mischievous gaze. So she wanted to leave right away. The adventurous heart of Maeve was ignited and she followed the stranger right away, a sheer wave of exhilaration washing over her.

It was the thrill of the unknown, the lingering, yet hidden sense of potential danger that usually excited her and yet the other woman offered a hint of safety, too. They weren't alone in their unpredictable quest, but they had one another, and thus Maeve obediently followed. They hadn't even exchanged their names, yet they seemed to know a lot more about the other than what shimmered on the surface and Maeve was more than eager to delve in deeper.

Her exhilarated, dilated pupils swallowed of of her blue, but the mischievous glint of the other was simply infectious. To the strangers they passed they were nothing but a duo making its way through the less frequented back-alleys, but who knew what awaited at their destination.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Queen of Darkness

Z O R Y A

In the labyrinthine alleys of Onderon, Zorya led Maeve, the resonance of their shared heartbeat felt through their clasped hands. The scent of damp moss and freshly rain-kissed cobbles filled the night air, while the susurrus of whispered secrets and the nocturnal songs of hidden creatures hummed in the background.

Zorya's thoughts were an intricate dance of shadows and light. The ethereal strings of fate that had brought them together pulsed with enigma. She sensed Maeve's trust, a budding bloom in the night, but trust was a fragile thing. Still, there was a kindred spirit in the blue-eyed maverick beside her, a mirror to her own yearnings.

The streets, under the muted glow of the moon, revealed themselves as more than mere paths. They were a part of Onderon's soul, pregnant with stories of honor, treachery, and hidden desires. Every stone they tread upon seemed to whisper tales of ages gone by.

In a pause to catch their breath, Zorya turned to face Maeve, her eyes delving deep into those dilated oceanic depths. "Names," she scribbled hurriedly, her elegant handiwork clear despite the motion, "are curious entities. We wear them as badges, armor, and even shrouds. I am Zorya."

The winds carried the distant allure of exotic spices and the soft patter of the continuing drizzle. The intertwined destinies of two souls were about to embroil them in a narrative that neither could have foreseen. A few steps ahead, Zorya noticed a cloaked figure gesturing them towards a discreet archway, its silhouette almost imperceptible in the encompassing gloom.

Drawing Maeve closer, she scribbled another note, its message succinct yet profound. "Dangers lurk, and allies are rare. Be vigilant." With her other hand, she revealed a pendant from beneath her cloak, its design reminiscent of a particular Onderonian house, yet subtly different, whispering of clandestine lineage and veiled histories.

Without hesitation, Zorya led Maeve through the archway, the allure of what lay beyond, a siren's call to their mutual quest.

@LadyRen
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[Maeve]

As exhilaration and adventurous their shared quest already was, the mysterious dark veil of uncertainty followed. The stranger led her onwards and following felt natural, so as if the other woman knew exactly where to go and where to satisfy the seemingly unsatiable hunger of curiosity from the two of them.

She suddenly stopped, once again using her notes to communicate. Eager, turquoise eyes studied the delicate letters before a smirk crossed the feminine lips. Zorya..."Zorya". Somehow, her name spelled passion, a hidden flame that seeked expansion, enigma and an undeniable fierceness at once...It was fitting, and Maeve carefully chose her next words. "I'm Riva", she answered, meeting Zorya's gaze as she wasn't the 'mysterious stranger' any longer.

Names offered something to grasp, and a few of tne countless puzzle pieces seemed to align when she gave her the name. She held her gaze for a moment, before she took in the next nod and nodded in shared agreement. There was not much more to say and the silence was much more fitting for the beginning of their quest. The pendant...she recognized the emblem and figured it was a confirmation for her earlier thesis, proof for how she was right on track.

@Aberforth