Open Judgment

[Freyja]

The spectacle soon came to an end and what lingered in the air was the death of the traitor. He was gone, his Mandalorian companions drained of the living force and now fully depleted while the treacherous master's pain ceased. Freyja was almost frozen, mesmerized by the powerful display of the Dark Lord before she noticed Azar shifted and soon began moving towards Tempest.

She was curious about his reasons and despite her direct nature, she didn't yet ask as he went down to her, as her mind was still reeling from the execution. As Karys was now besides her, she overheard what Cyutadakyr said to them. Despite the genuineness in her voice, Freyja was convinced her statement was all about the veiled warning, not the praise and the sudden tension that permeated the air intrigued her.

It was then Karys who snapped back first before his apprentice took it up another notch. For Freyja, it was just fantastic. She learned a lot from either side and the information she gathered would probably come in handy another time. She was just about to turn away in order not to appear as though she was eavesdropping when she perceived Azar's voice in her head.

Immediately, the Half-Sephi's gaze flicked down to him as she started moving in his direction. Stand with me, apprentice. His voice kept echoing through her mind for another moment. She was his apprentice, true, but to stand with him, right at the Dark Lord's side, was incredible high praise.

Azar had proven himself to be an incredible master from the beginning, but even if Freyja wasn't easily fazed, this absolutely added to her exhilaration. She took a deep breath before she approached, her gaze directed downwards before she'd kneel in front of the dark lord respectfully. "My Lady", she was about to be involved with business, but Freyja obviously had to approach her correctly.

As the Wrean would, approach, she'd respectfully dip her head for her master as well, before she'd take the place by his side, gaze trained forwards. An ex champion turned Apex associate? She didn't doubt her master would make sure he didn't step out of line, but as she simply hadn't seen his face before, she was naturally wary. 'Do you know this man?', she telepathically asked Azae, curious whether their paths had crossed before.

@Sreeya @Altaris @Mr. Teatime

 

[Ayomi Jakarta]

Ayomi looked on with a stoic expression as Cremek's followers were reduced to withered piles of ash and bone, while the traitor himself was ripped limb for limb by the Dark Lord herself. It was a chilling reminder of the price to be paid for crossing Tempest, a position the Tiefling resolved never to find themselves in; yet it was also a beautifully raw display of power, one which they couldn't quite find the words to describe.

The same could not be said for their apprentice, however. Ayomi's irises grew a harsh yellow as they looked down at Feifi with rage and disappointment. As the girl's master, everything she did was their responsibility, good or bad; they would not look weak and inneffective, not in front of the Lord of the Sith. Feifi might not understand the gravity of the moment, but the Tiefling was not about to have their own aspirations and whatever little respect they commanded undermined by the weak-willed Mandalorian. The girl was the one person here for whom this was personal, and Ayomi would not fail to get the message across.

Feifi would feel an invisible grip on her throat as she was lifted off the ground and slammed against the railing of the balcony overlooking the grisly display below, her head forced to look. "This man abandoned you, betrayed us all, electing to put you in danger to satisfy his own ego. To challenge the Dark Lord was suicide, but make no mistake. She would have been fully within her rights to tear you apart to hurt him, and he put you in that position. In this position. This stain on the Sith name betrayed you most of all, apprentice. Will you be the same disappointment he was?" The Tiefling's growled words would telepathically echo in Feifi's head, not dropping their telekinetic grasp on the acolyte until she was almost out of breath. Ayomi's tail flicked angrily back and forth as they watched both the gathered Sith above and below out of the corners of their eyes, wary of any judgemental glances. They would not let this girl drag them down.

@Hastur @Altaris @everyoneelse

 

[Trael Osso-Drast]

Trael watched the display continue. Cremek was saved until the end forced to watch his kin murdered before his eyes. Like every Sith in attendance he was in awe of the Dark Lord's power. He witnessed what true power as a Sith was like. He knew the spectacle was to serve as a warning to all in attendance what betraying Tempest meant.

Azar jumped down and seemed to speak to Tempest. She then began speaking about an unknown member amongst the crowd. He would notice Azar's apprentice join him below quickly kneeling before Tempest before taking her spot next to her master. The person in attendance made their way down and followed the instructions the Dark Lord made.

He would then feel the force coil out to his side. His gaze darted as he witnessed Ayomi lifting up their grieving apprentice. The apprentice was quickly slammed against the railing while Ayomi stared at her. He forgot how precarious some Sith's egos could be at time. Punishing a girl for grieving her father was a low blow, but it was one expected of a Sith to dish out. This interaction made Trael realize once again he wasn't prepared for an acolyte. He isn't ruthless enough to teach a new generation Sith it would seem.

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai simply observed impassive and emotionless as Cremek met his final end. Torn and twisted in ways he never thought possible,as blood and visceral spread throughout the area, Trodai took note of the sheer, raw power of the Darkness. Tempest flexing her hand like it was nothing. It was a sight to behold. He saw how Ayomi threw their apprentice into the railing, forcing Feifi to watch her father suffer. And be torn apart like a paper bag.

A lesson to learn no doubt.

He continued to observe as attention was drawn to the outsider. One not of the Order, Nakoa. A Ex-Champion if the rumours were true. He didn't like them already, to refuse the Order as they did. And now come crawling back. But he trusted the Dark Lords judgement. Especially after all he had just seen.

He listened, observing as Nakoa offered blood, a sacrifice. A price to pay. Still waiting for his Master to speak, Trodai looked to the gathered crown. Taking note of the Wrean, Vossari whom he had seen a few times but never spoken too. He respected his accomplishments so far. Just as he respected Azar and Karys. And what he appeared to be doing, standing his ground as he jangled the vambraces.

He heard a rumour he was connected to Karys and by that extension in some ways Azar. An ally maybe. Perhaps they would speak soon enough, afterall it was likely they would have to work together soon he imagined.

He turned face his Master again and Khlan.

@Khlan Gonk @Fine Dining Set @LouJoVi

 

[Mjan Adas iv Sadow]

In the moments leading to Cremek's death, Mjan was out of his seat and upon the Temple's railings, his gaze falling solely upon the display before him. Nothing else held any meaning to him, and in a sense, he lusted the moment as pure retribution. For he had reached beyond his station, and with the snap of his limbs, he would surely have felt the magnitude of his crimes. It were these moments, this statement made, that any Sith of their caliber were to heed and pay the closest of attentions. And as his throat collapsed and life was withdrawn, he paid his price for failure.

Mjan breathed in the moment, taking in both solace and warning as it was portrayed before them all. Mjan grasped at his own neck when she released Cremek's body, a testament to them all being spoken by the Sith'ari Tempest. Reach as far as one wanted, but play it smart. Don't let your hand be caught in the marcan jar. And it was a lesson Mjan would keep close to heart in his life ahead.

Mjan moved freely about as Lady Tempest turned her attention to another, his Sith Armor still adorned with fashionable white linen that strung about against his Obsidian skin. But his attention did not falter as his gaze shifted in @Nakoa Singh's direction. It seemed another who reached above himself now sought the forgiveness of the fold. And Mjan was curious as to @Darth Tempest's reaction upon him.

In truth, her mercy was a surprise to Mjan. But as the events unfolded, his understanding of her and her intentions became evidently clear. The man before her, this Nakoa, still held a shriveled part to play, one that was best served not to be tested. A smirk rose upon his face in a congratulatory approval. This Dark Lady of the Sith, this Sith'ari, truly understood the Darkside infinitely more than even he had gathered. And he was impressed to say the least.

But as he walked about at the closing of the displays made here today, he would find himself deep within his thoughts. The Sith'ari was one of immense Mastery not only over the Darkside, but over the Sith as well, an eternal grasp over it all. To rise to such power meant a dedication not only of themselves to the Sith Order and it's intentions, but in the understanding of the others around them. To look upon one with an all knowing gaze that spoke all that needed to said of each individual in her core.

To betray that all knowing gaze invited it's cruelty and vindication. His gaze fell upon @Azar Kressh in this moment of thought and found a familiar kinship within the Pureblood that had stepped to her side. He understood the movements and knew the pieces as they fell. And so did Mjan. In his movement, Mjan nodded to both @Karys, his padawan @Vossari Khaldun, a congratulatory smile upon his face, and to his brother @Trodai Narat-iv-Adas along side his Master @Caerllion of Cyfnos, his smile disappearing behind a look of sorrow at the latter. "You were at the Social, correct?

Mjan spoke in an embarrassed tone, vague memories of that night upon Nar Shadaa when Trodai's burrito infected him uncontrollably. If it hadn't been for Azar, it could have ended far more disgraceful. "I am not sure if this will make up for it, but you have my apologies if I offended you in any way." His gaze shifted around the group briefly before turning back to Caer. "Any of you. Forgive mine and my brother's antics. We tend to take brotherly rivalry to the extremes."

Little did Mjan know, that in that moment, their rivalry had taken a dire turn and placed each other on opposite ends of the spectrum that was their relationship as brothers of the same father. But still, in that moment, Mjan was offering up the sincerest of apologies to the group, namely Caer and Karys, and by association, @Ayomi Jakarta or any others that may have been offended that night.

Spoiler

@Altaris, @Sreeya, @LouJoVi, @Apollyon, @Akheron, @Versok, @Narzen, @Xorism, @Fine Dining Set, @René

 

[Nevizkas]

Before Karys could give his response, the Dark Lord spoke up again, pulling the pureblood's attention immediately. The potent power that she demanded from Singh was not lost upon Cyutadakyr, as the gathered watched in silence. Once the wren was marched out, her watchful gaze remained on the pair standing beside the Dark Lord herself before being drawn by Karys' remarks.

She could recognise the drive burning within the champion to succeed, neither did she doubt his conviction under pressure. It was, after all, a playful jab, and he'd returned the serve well. Her smile confirming as much.

That was until the noise resembling a voice began critiquing the purebloods. A curious choice, considering their number was often as high as the remaining guests in gathering lately, but more interestingly, his own master was one as well. Perhaps she had set herself up, perhaps she deserved the jab, yet they were playing a dangerous game. Cyutadakyr didn't interrupt Vossari speaking, after all, why stop someone from making a mistake they could learn from?

Instead, she simply waited until they were done speaking whilst smiling and looking directly at Karys. A hand gently brushed past her dress subtly, as the pureblood drew upon the Dark Side. A wreathing response circled the Wrean's neck under the helmet, compressing the suit that was meant to protect him and instead turning it into a noose that would soon leave them without the ability to breathe until she deemed it otherwise.

"Champion Karys, your apprentice's mouth seems to be a liability and by extension can become your own." The pureblood paid well attention of Vossari, in case the little shit tried anything. She was quite aware that Vossari was mostly trained by another thus far, and that pained her in another way. "I expect to hear how you have corrected this by our next encounter." She didn't care how Karys accomplished this, only in that her tolerance for such disrespect was at an end.

Even as lofty as a Sith Master was, it would be risking a death sentence to speak like that publicly to her superior. Even speaking with an equal, such as Master Kressh, it was expected that they aired a reasonable level of respect. If not for the person and their accomplishments, but the rank itself.

She wasn't sure what was meant to be more insulting, the casual speciesism or the fact that they thought Cyutadakyr would want to be caught wearing one of those hideous vambraces. Still, she was a Sith Master now and he was a dime a dozen Acolyte.

@Fine Dining Set @Apollyon

 

[Anai Skhess]

Anai silently watched as the execution was carried out, unwavering and unflinching as she witnessed the awful end that Cremek and his followers would meet. It was a great display of power, especially given the next event of the night...An unwanted runaway coming back home. Anai's enhanced hearing picked on what Kazar said and instinctively went for her lightsaber, eyes fixated on the member of Apex that had dared to step into sith territory.

While Darth Tempest would once more showed why she was the Dark Lord of the Sith, quelling any ideas about harming Nakoa Anai had, her look would basically shoot daggers at the man: a deserter, a coward, a man too weak to remain in the order and, worst of all, someone part of an organization that had decided to fight alongside the jedi. She hoped the blood he shed would someday prove his undoing, once their lord no longer had use for him.

After that, however, her attention would be drawn by Cyu, Voss and Karys as her ears picked on their conversation. A sith master whose reputation had been tarnished by Apex in the past, yet she seemingly ignored the man to instead pick on a champion and his acolyte. Was she not filled with fury at the sight of the people that were the reason she was in such a tight spot, was she really that more focused on talking down on those favoured by the Dark Lord and then choking a lowly apprentice?

Her gaze then focused on Karys. While his apprentice was more than deserving of the punishment Cyu had given him...It was still Karys' apprentice, which meant the man could very well take offense to it, as he could see himself as the only one allowed to do so for it was his duty. Anai would simply observe, see how the champion she had influenced would respond to it.

@Apollyon @Xorism @Fine Dining Set

 

[Karys]

She thinks her rank makes her superior to us. She thinks that I will do nothing to her. She is wrong. You are an extension of me apprentice, you are a piece of my powerbase. Your value to me is greater than hers. Say what you wish. Karys responded telepathically.

Karys’ golden eyes hardened but remained fixed on Cyu while Vossari said his peace. He didn’t move to correct his Apprentice, he didn’t utter a word. Instead, he waited to see what she would do. Karys felt her draw upon the Dark Side. The noose around Vossari would only go taught for a moment before Karys acted.

The time for niceties and unwavering kindness had died on Trokein with Param. The words from Anai ring in his head as he watched Cyutadakyr. Good men didn’t make good Sith. Cyutadakyr thought he wouldn’t touch her, she thought wrong.

With her eyes still fixed on his, with a smile still plastered to her face, Karys’ hand snapped out. His fingers gripped her throat, cutting off her oxygen supply with the same contemptuous ease that he used to lift her from the ground. Hate burned in those golden eyes. She’d crossed the line.

“Param thought she could touch what belonged to me as well.” Karys growled. “Do you see her amongst our number?” He asked coldly. “You won’t Cyutadakyr, because I murdered her for it.” He hissed.

With that, Karys would toss the “Sith Master” from the balcony and into arena. She’d land squarely in Cremek’s entrails, the blood, shit, and gore of them. Karys gazed down at her with spite for what she had dared to do. He was no mere Acolyte, he was more than just Azar’s lover, he was Sith and all would respect him as such or die.

“And he’s right Cyutadakyr, a mere Acolyte holds more worth in the Dark Lord’s eyes than one of her Masters.” He taunted. “You are weak and alone.”

@Sreeya @Xorism @Fine Dining Set @Altaris

 

[Feifi Candorus]

Feifi feels the choke from her master, gasping slightly.

"Forgive my weakness master.."

she gasped, her voice Shakey, she refuses to look at her dead father, only look at his helmet, the only thing that matters to her right now.. but she refocused on the body of her father.

Her master was right, but she did not regard her father's death as a necessarily bad thing, in her veiw, her beloved father died on dantooine, in the darkness of his own bloodlust.

"if I ever grow mad enough to betray the order, it will be to ensure that the weak do not rule the strong.. therefore I will not be betraying the order, but exemplifying it.. I seek to not only be better than my father, I intend to surpass him, I intend to be legend."

She coughed.

@René @Altaris @whoever

 

[Caerllion of Cyfnos]

A large smile appeared on Caerllion’s lips while he watched Cremek’s allies wittering to nothing. This was a true example of what the Dark Side in its total power was capable of doing. Darth Tempest actions were impeccable. The Annfyn could only train to reach this level of mastery. When it was time for the traitor to die, he remained amazed with how Cremek became a simple puppet, having his body contorted.

Alas, the show came to an end and the traitor and his supporters were dead. The Sith were dispersing, some leaving while others socializing. Caerllion decided to stay here with his apprentice. While he looked around the crowd, he saw that Ayomi was torturing their apprentice.

If he wasn’t wrong, the girl was Cremek’s daughter. In this case, watching this execution was essential for her to understand the reality of being a Sith. However, the Annfyn thought that physical punishment in some moments wasn't good. If she was his apprentice, he would have tortured her telepathically, giving visions of them in the place of the traitor and showing her the damage that her father caused to the Order.

The process of rebuilding and modeling a broken mind was far more entertaining, rather than needing to wait for his apprentice to heal because of wounds that he inflicted to them due to punishment. This could delay the training, while the rebuilding of a broken mind could become part of it.

Well, each Sith with their training strategy.

Then his apprentice brought to his attention another Acolyte. Caerllion wasn’t sure of what species Khlan was, besides being probably one of the most bizarre things that he ever saw. Even surpassing the sight of Darth Draugr in swimsuit from that boat party from years ago. However, his appearance would not matter. If he had talent, the Annfyn would take him as an apprentice.

“Khlan, right? I’ll arrange a day for us to see what you are capable of.” Caerllion had took Trodai’s warning and would have that in mind when evaluating the other. At this moment, another Pureblood approached them. The Annfyn immediately recognized them as Mjan, the dude that vomited and defecated in the social. He listened to his apology and nodded after he finished.

“Yes, I was. Your apology is accepted, I know that it was because of a burrito.” these things should be forbidden. “I already talked with my apprentice about it…” Caerllion stopped when he saw the debacle between Kary and Cyutadakyr. It was no surprise. This wasn’t going to be a Sith gathering without some conflict. He had some doubts if Tempest would interfere, believing that there was some chance of her simply letting thing roll.

He hoped that Karys would give some trouble to Cyutadakyr. The Annfyn was still pissed with her for blocking him in the social.

@René @Hastur @Akheron @Narzen @Apollyon @Xorism

 

[Nevizkas]

Karys had caught the contemptuous Sith Master by surprise. It seemed that she was wrong, Voss wasn't misbehaving of his own devices but was in fact poorly taught.

She watched as his arm raced forward to grab her by the throat and lift, his eyes glowing gold. The left hand at her side was too slow to stop his from reaching its target, instead tightly gripping his wrist to prevent its movement as she fought him. His monologue was painful, but also an opportunity.

In the midst of his extended speech and enhanced with the force, with her free hand, Cyu grabbed the vibroknife from under her dress. With a quick fluid motion, she aimed to bring the ignited blade up around his extended elbow where it was unprotected and take his entire arm, bone and sinew. The attack would stop his throw and perhaps the agonising pain this wound would leave, if she was successful, would be debilitating.

This blade had never left her side in a decade, as Karys was well aware from the time he had kissed her, pressing his own stomach into its edge to reach her in a now long distant memory.

@Apollyon

 

[Azhi Dahaka]

Reptilian eyes watched the proceedings, just another acolyte in a crowd of other nobodies and no-ones who watched just the same. Donned in traditional hooded cloak and simplified tunic, Azhi observed the interactions between different Sith, between the visitor and the Dark Lord, between the Dark Lord and Azar the Potionsmaster. No expression was visible on his face. Or at least, not one the mammals would recognize.

Cremek's death and those of his traitor broodmates was satisfying. The Barabel acolyte felt no sympathy for this dead brood. Only envy for the Dark Lord's sheer power. It was another dead fool in the galaxy.

There was a lot of strangling today. Azhi counted no less than four stranglings so far if Cremek's death was counted, and he rather thought Sith Stranglings could make a good drinking game. A soft sissing sound escaped his maw as he edged around the crowd to get a better look at things.

From his new angle he watched as Master Cyu responded to Champion Karys' violence with more violence, as was correct in life. Azhi wondered who would win, lengthy tail swishing slow and low behind him.

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

The crushing force collapsing around his neck was familiar, at this point. Almost every Sith he had met had choked him at some point or the other. It came as no surprise that, even here, his insolence would be punished. But then, there was a welcome surprise. Pressure was relieved from his neck - because Karys was standing up for him. While they had trained together, there had been little love shared between the pair.

Karys would soon appreciate the benefits of having an acolyte at his side. The exchange of events was rapid, but after being choked, Vossari's eyes never moved from Cyu. When her blade ignited, Vossari's arms shot out, attempting to lock her grip into place with the Force. Freezing her arm's movement would stop her vibroblade from reaching its target. Undoubtedly, she was faster and stronger than Vossari. But with Karys's powerful hold upon her, Vossari would be able to focus all of his power onto her grip.

@Xorism @Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys felt Cyu draw on the Force, he saw her hand dart for the knife he knew she had. His free hand mirrored hers and it grasped at her hand, even as the Force aided him Karys realized he’d be too slow. His hand would never reach her wrist in time, Cyutadakyr was just a hair faster than him.

Or she would have been if it weren’t for Vossari.

Vossari gripped Cyu’s arm with all of his power it would buy the time for Karys to snap his grip around her wrist. Cyutadakyr would feel Karys’ grip on her wrist and neck intensify. His strength would crush her windpipe with a sharp twist and break her wrist in a similar motion. The Force would only aid in this process.

Cyutadakyr would have mere moments before her throat was crushed and Karys tossed her lifeless body from the balcony.

Alone and weak

@Fine Dining Set @Xorism

 

[Nevizkas]

With no luck from her knife attack, the snivelling little shit hiding in the corner tensed her arm just enough that Karys caught it in time. His own attack in turn was to compress her windpipe and wrist, attempting to break both.

Brute force may have been his forte, the large monster that he was becoming, but the force was hers.

Suddenly, a burst of pyrokinesis erupted from the amulet around her neck, spewing intense heat and flame directed at both Karys and Vossari, threatening to consume them and further fueled by the pain he inflicted upon her. The short distance and surprise would make it rather difficult to avoid its inferno, although Cyutadakyr herself would not be unaffected by its rampage.

Her throat constricted under the pressure, feeling flush with death itself lingering near. Fighting back and using her strength and reserves as a Master, Cyutadakyr applied a stasis to the hand around her throat with the specific intent of preventing its ability to entirely crush her throat.

The damage he had already done to her windpipe, although, was not insignificant, as she wheezed in pain. Nor could she avoid the snap of her wrist, gingerly dropping the knife at his feet.

Though quite faint, and almost undecipherable, a quiet voice lingered in the back of her mind as if the amulet itself was speaking to her. It would take time before she would understand its calling, its one true goal of plunging the galaxy into flame, but with each passing use the danger grew.

Burn them all.

@Apollyon @Fine Dining Set

 

[Karys]

The amulet, while Karys had seen how it worked before. Cyu had touched its surface then to produce flames that’s wreathed her arms. He didn’t know she could just produce fire because she wore it. Karys didn’t have time to avoid the fire and up until that moment he had refused to let go.

His mind changed as flames bathed him.

Karys would feel Cyu’s wrist snap, hear the knife clatter to the floor, he’d step on the hilt of the blade and toss her limp hand to the side. But he couldn’t release her, something held his hand to her throat. Panic flooded him and he’d throw a single punch into her face. He hoped to break her hold on his hand long enough to fling her away. If he succeeded, Cyutadakyr would be flung from the balcony and into the arena. Her amulet engulfing the air around her and lighting anything ablaze she passed by.

Karys’ breaths came in heaves, the skin on his chest was blistered and peeling away in areas revealing cooked muscle beneath. Parts of his traditional armor were charred or had began to glow with the heat of her fires. He leaned heavily on the balcony as he gazed down at his former friend, likely the last he had. Contempt and pain burned his gaze, she had done what she had to and so had he. Nothing could change that.

“Weak and alone Cyutadakyr!” He called down hoarsely after her, ignoring the balcony that burned around him.

Karys might not have beaten her, but he forced a draw.

@Fine Dining Set @Xorism

 

[Feifi Candorus]

Feifi now looked at the others, engaged in their pathetic power struggles.
"How sad.."
they're no better than her father, to fight here in front of the dark lord, like children.. over what, who got the best dicking?.. her father at least was just upfront about his desire for violence..

Feifi's eyes were opened, her eyes on the prize now, the truest way to honor her father was to grow strong, as he desired her to be.

she quoted her fathers motto.
"Kill, consume, evolve."

it seems these champions are forgetting the two latter steps of power , this would be their undoing, this is what separated a sith from a jester.. Not engaging in half baked dick measuring contests and meaning what you say, if you have the power, why waste it on this.. why not just kill eachother in the arena like proper warriors?..

she resisted the urge to step in and kill both master cyu and champion while they were both weak... Claim both their power bases as hers.. perhaps it was time for a lesson with her master.

"Master, I have questions on the concepts of challenges, is it just, walking up to a person and battling? Or is there a ritual aspect involved?"

@René @Altaris @anyoneelselol

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Dammit! Fire! That was exactly what Vossari wanted to avoid! Fighting against a Sith master wasn't exactly what the Wrean had expected out of the day, but with such a vast discrepancy between their power, all Vossari could do was survive.

Vossari's force grip dropped when the flames came out. Cyu was remarkably strong - her power, even while restrained by Karys, beyond what he had expected. Vossari split laterally from the fire, slipping towards the edge of the cone of fire as it emerged. As he did so, he cast his hands upwards, imitating a move he had seen Azar do on Saleucami to redirect the flames of a massive explosion. His hope was to cast the flames up into the sky before they dimmed out - reducing the amount of damage he would endure as a result.

Still, it was hot. His environmental suit wasn't designed to take on direct flame like this, and emergency warnings flared up on their HUD as the internal climate regulators failed. Hot durasteel sizzled against Vossari's skin, only salved by their armorweave bodysuit that way beneath. It burned, though, with the heat fueled by Cyu's hatred. The pain of their now-hot suit exasperated his never-healed back wounds, scars boiling to erupt open. When the flames dissipated, Vossari was on bended knee, weakened. Knocking the flames off his suit had taken much of his strength.

He hoped that Cyu and Karys would end this soon, and that he would survive whatever came next.

@Apollyon @Xorism

 

[Serene]

Spoiler: Music

Song

Serene watched with growing delight as the life was drained from the mandalorians and even more from the horror visible and hidden by the audience. She sadistically enjoyed the final moments of Cremek and the pain it caused his existing relative. She only turned her attention away to notice the daughter of the dead man. Most of the Sith simply felt fear for the example Darth Tempest had made and that point was not lost on Serene. Feifi's sadness however stuck out in a tide of terror. With the display over, the champion rose from her seat and had intended to congratulate the other Sith.

Serene barely caught the words of the Sith Master, Cyutadakyr and turned her head to the side, keeping Karys and Vossari in view. The woman watched the subsequent series of attacks aimed at one another, steadily backing away to a safe distance. Serene stood back and out of the way of the fight avoiding any danger. However she made another step back as Cyu released her infernal jewlery based attack, more out of surprise than anything. It was for the best since she could still feel the heat of the amulet's effect even in the climate controlled interior of the mustafarian fortress.

The hem of Serene's dress fluttered and blew away but the champion stood securely, slightly tense and wondering if she would need to jump out of the way again. But Karys had cast Cyutadakyr before any further collateral damage could occur in the balcony. She looked at the damaged acolyte of Karys and if she caught his eye she would wave a give a come-hither finger motion with one of her vibroclaw adorned digits.

She would offer him something that might help him if he wished to continue against the female pureblood. Serene actually liked Cyutadakyr but this was appearing to be a one sided battle. Karys had not demanded an aure'kesh for the title of master for one thing and wanted to have his acolyte beside him as he killed Cyu. Perhaps she could cement her network now. The Sith Master needed to be strong and not making threats they could not back up. Most of all Karys had a point, she was alone. Serene knew she was no different.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Ayomi Jakarta]

Ayomi released their grip on Feifi, letting the girl fall to the ground and recover her breath. They understood the girl was grieving - well, they understood it theoretically, at least - but they needed to consider their own position as well, and it was better to go too hard on Feifi than not hard enough. Luckily, it seemed any exaggeration was mostly unnecessary as everyone's eyes were drawn to another encounter. There was the Apex operative, yes, but the Tiefling could feel the pull of the Force off to their left. Karys and his new apprentice were facing off with Cyutadakyr.

Ayomi couldn't say they new either of them well; they'd known Karys longer, since the mission to establish influence over Cotellier, and he'd been friendly when the two had interacted. Then again, so had Cyudatakyr at the party on Nar Shaddaa. But being a Sith was more than friends and upbeat conversations, and by the sounds of things Karys was defending a challenge to his own power base from the female Pureblood. The Tiefling's hand hovered near their lightsaber, but they otherwise stayed back. This was not their fight, and the strongest deserved to win.

Ayomi's eyes flickered over to Feifi behind them asking about what was going on, stretching out a hand to shield the Mandalorian girl from a stray burst of flame. Being immune to fire had its perks. "This is far from some casual fight, but it is no ritual. This is one Sith directly challenging another's claim to power, and the defense of that claim. This isn't senseless violence, but the way of the Sith. The reaping of the weak. This is how the Sith remain strong."

@Hastur @everyoneelse