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Post by Deleted on Nov 25, 2013 16:00:57 GMT -8
"I just got a good bonk on the head this morning, so I think I'll pass on that."
Dresden took the Sith Lord's hand into his own and began to feel about. To her, it would feel like he was massaging it, because, well, he kinda was. But there was a lot of data to be collected, both through tactile feel and the Force. Her fingers, for instance, were just a hair longer than average for a woman her size, and quite nimble. This was offset by what felt like the earliest stages of arthritic damage, as expected from a lifetime of hard use. Light recoil would be a must, as would a relatively ergonomic grip. The agility of her fingers meant that she'd be capable of breaking down and cleaning a more complex piece. He was pretty sure he had just the pistol in mind.
"Sabers aren't entirely useless, despite what they might want you to think. Sure, it'll bounce off beskar, but as far as armor goes, their plate coverage is usually pretty light. It would have to be, given the rarity of the stuff."
Measurement completed, the ex-Shard stood and rolled his shoulders back a few times.
"Okay, let's see if I've got this figured out."
Much like the Chinese food from the night before, a cloud of parts appears in thin air, accompanied by a series of faint pops. At first, it looked like a random jumble, but that didn't last long. Soon the mess organized into something that looked suspiciously like the explodes diagram one might find in an instruction manual. Once in place, pieces began randomly flickering in and out of existence, settling on a final form only when the master of the bizarre ceremony was certain.
After a solid minute of this, the whole mess stopped. It froze, suspended in air as Dresden evaluated his handiwork with a critical eye. Apparently satisfied, the parts began assembling themselves into one cohesive whole. Once the job was complete, it floated in front of Sinistra, ready for her to give it purpose.
"This particular model is based off a truly ancient design. Earliest records indicate that it was called the P-38. We don't know much about the history, but it's something of a legend in marksmanship circles. Never will you find a more natural feeling or instinctively accurate handgun. If you can't put a round through a Mando's throat with that thing, you've got no business waging war."
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Lord Sinistra
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Post by Lord Sinistra on Nov 25, 2013 17:05:13 GMT -8
She set her caf down, and reached for the pistol, plucking it from the air, her fingers curled delicately around the grip. It was an exquisite match to her hand, a weapon crafted just for her was something no one had ever given her. She used the saber of her late husband, it was large and unwieldy, it took time to learn how to maneuver it. However this slugthrower felt light and agile in her palm. She ejected the clip and looked at the munitions before she slid it back in and flicked on the safety.
"9 mil. Should be a pretty good addition to my arsenal. Do I get a holster for it?"
She smirked at him, as she walked over and laid the pistol down on her desk. The growing light outside the windows brought her attention back to the cup of caf she set down. She drank a sip quietly, then nudged him with her elbow. She had to ensure that whatever this cosmic power was that constantly drew them to the same place would consider the situation normal as she could not afford to be pulled away in the middle of battle.
"You should go now. Take care of your mission, and I will watch my back. And if I make it through this, I'll see you on Dressel."
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Post by Deleted on Nov 28, 2013 21:30:27 GMT -8
Dresden chuckled at the holster comment.
"Next time you stop by my shop, I'll hook you up. There's only so much of this the universe can take in one day before the Whills start to take notice."
The former Shard considered trying a hug, but that seemed wrong under the circumstances. This seemed more of a firm handshake and jaunty grin sort of deal.
"Take care of yourself, Sin. There's a little pool hall in Breehara I want to take you to once you get done with the Mandos. And if you get a chance to do some genetic sequencing, I'll bet the cost of the first game that their family tree is a wreath."
And with that, he was gone. Well, all of him but a sock. It sort of stood there for a minute, wondering what to do, still holding the shape of the foot, until it finally decided to fuck off to find the others.
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Post by Palatine, Argos Theties Echion on Mar 2, 2014 8:47:59 GMT -8
A Holo-feed was incoming, and the screen turned on automatically to display the message despite no one being present.
A pristine looking man sat on an expensive arm chair, a glass of something in one hand. He smiled into the camera before speaking.
"Lord Sinistra. I hope this communique finds you in the good graces of your new Empire. I am Palatine Argos Theties Echion, of house Echion of Brentaal. I was present at the senate hearing and find myself agreeing with your stance on the matter of aid, and the lack of the Republic to help anyone; including their own. In short, I have told the senate personally that Brentaal and its people are of their own sovereignty, and that we shall deal with whomever we see fit." The man stopped for a moment, taking a sip of his glass before continuing. "I extend a hand in helping you rebuild and further your Empire, as a hub for trade and goods, under the understanding that we remain a neutral party to both you and the Republic. I want to help rebuild this galaxy with the fruits of the trade routes that my people control... and I think that you can agree that having us as a partner in your budding economy would bolster your peoples resolve." The man smiled again before giving the camera a respectful nod of the head. "I leave this offer for you to convene over. There is no rush for a reply, as I want this to be a mutual benefit. Not a parley for services. Until then Lord Sinistra, thank you for your time."
The screen blinked out and the holo-feed stopped, returning the room to it's original silence.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2014 10:41:49 GMT -8
It had been an interesting arrival. Eralam personally thought the stormtroopers were a bit much, but he knew a certain amount of pomp and ceremony was required for something like an empire.
Since there was nothing else to do, the former Shard sprawled out on the couch and pulled out a book. It would be a while before Sin got back, and he wasn't about to try messing with things on his own.
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Verinoma
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Affiliation: Dark Tide
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Post by Verinoma on Mar 2, 2014 15:18:50 GMT -8
There was a knock on the door of Sinistra's private office, and before Eralam could get up to attend to it, it swung open and Verinoma entered. The tall, Lethan Twi'lek carried a tray of medical supplies that one would expect to see in the hands of phlebotomist. Her attire was black, as stereotypes would dictate, a long skirt covered with a grey sleeveless top and a wide belt. She carried no saber on her belt but the black tattoos over her lekku, face and arms were more than enough to mark what she was. She cleared her throat before she spoke, a light accent indigenous to the Twi'leks was present but not over aggressive. It was clear she had not been with her people in a very long time.
"Forgive my intrusion, but I had orders to attend to you immediately. I will need to take several samples of your blood if you don't mind. The quicker I am finished, the sooner you will be left alone to enjoy your stay."
She set the tray on Sinistra's desk, and pulled a pair of latex gloves from it. Although the royal wing was completely new to her, her task did not include gawking at the Emperor's personal effects and her eyes were focused on readying her task. "Do you prefer the left arm or the right?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2014 17:05:17 GMT -8
Eralam eyed the medical equipment skeptically.
"Right usually gets a better draw, but you won't get anything just yet."
The former Shard walked over to one of his travel bags and extracted a hip flask.
"Part of my 'condition' is an incredibly robust healing factor," he said after taking a long pull from the flask. The cheap whiskey seared his throat and made his eyes water, but he had specifically brought it for instances where rapid consumption would be required. To chug down a similar amount of Black Cask would be a waste. "Alcohol seems to be the most effective way to temporarily inhibit it. Trust me, you don't wanna try poking me with a needle while I'm sober. You won't get it back."
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Verinoma
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Post by Verinoma on Mar 2, 2014 18:30:16 GMT -8
She reached out very suddenly, grabbing his free arm to look at the pale flesh, her fingers gently prodding and probing the tissue under her gloves. She looked into his face, her shrewd eyes searching for something as she started to draw on the force just slightly to prod at him also, almost like she was looking for an edge to pry up, a corner of a veneer to look behind. Her voice was distant as she spoke, the force receding just as quickly as it was called.
"Yes, I see now what she referred to. Everything seems normal, but I can feel something fighting to get out of you."
She released his arm and turned back to her preparations, laying out the needle and vials, and starting the labels on them while she waited.
"At first glance, I would say that you were the product of a bad spirit transference. It's almost like you were stuck into a non-force sensitive body but it is more than that."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2014 19:03:05 GMT -8
Eralam eyed the doctor suspiciously. She, like most doctors, was clearly intelligent, but at the mention of spirit transference, it was clear that she had experience in the more mystical side of things as well. That would be odd, if it wasn't for the fact that she was working for the freaking Sith.
"You've got the right idea, though I think it's safe to say that you're wrong about the scale of the problem. At any rate, the room is starting to spin, so you can go ahead and try to get a stick."
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Verinoma
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Post by Verinoma on Mar 2, 2014 19:18:09 GMT -8
Drawing blood was a particular gift of Verinoma's, within a few seconds of him giving her the go, she had a strap tied in place, his arm swabbed and a rather large gauge needle thrust into a vein. Within a minute, she had pulled it off and put a cotton ball over the spot which would likely heal up fairly quickly, if the boast about the abilities was any indication. She bound the vials together and pulled off her gloves, stuffing them back into the tray. She disposed of her sharps and picked up the trash, speaking half over her shoulder as she made sure that there would be no signs of her presence left on Sinistra's desk.
"I will inform the Emperor of what I find, however, she has requested that I share everything I find with you, as a matter of transparency. She has not given me a report about what this is about but I can imagine it is dire since she told me I have a very short time frame in which to fix this. So I think you will be in my labs quite a bit until I get this figured out."
Her clean up complete, she dipped her head to him in a sign of respect.
"I am Verinoma, Chief Alchemist."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2014 20:09:49 GMT -8
The former Shard inclined his head respectfully. Alchemist, eh? Somehow, he didn't think she was the fun "let's mix crazy shit and try to turn lead into gold type." Probably more of the "summon demons and twist your soul with jazz hands" type. Oh well.
"Dresden, former chief of state of Dressel, jackass, and gunslinger, at your service."
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Verinoma
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Affiliation: Dark Tide
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Post by Verinoma on Mar 2, 2014 20:55:47 GMT -8
"I shall leave you to your privacy. If you have anything to share that can shed light on what I might be facing, please send me a message here." She handed him a small card with her coms on it. "The alchemy labs are in the basement. Go down all the stairs you can find, can't miss it. Good day to you, Dresden."
Without further adieu, Verinoma took her leave of the private office, shutting the door firmly behind her.
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Lord Sinistra
Retired High Councilor
VE Human Capital Management & Talent Acquisition
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Affiliation: The Vegemite Enclave
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Post by Lord Sinistra on Mar 12, 2014 19:13:22 GMT -8
The day had dragged on, and by the time that the meetings and calls were through, she was grouchy and hungry and very, very tired. She knew Eralam was lurking around the Royal Chambers somewhere, but there were so many rooms, she wasn't sure if he was relaxing in his own bedchamber, sacked out in her office, or in another room that existed in the silent and deserted wing that she claimed as her own. She needed to pack but she was so exhausted, she gave the list of things to a butler to handle.
She wandered into her own bedchamber, a room of more dark wood and a canopy bed shrouded from light and noise by thick brocade curtains. With a dressing area and a refresher off to one side, a sitting area matched it on the other with a fireplace and couches near the french doors that lead out to the balcony. She didn't even pour herself a drink, just sliding down into the couch to look out the doors and watch the last of the light fade out of the sky. It streaked trails of pink, orange and purple in the clouds as it died, the deep indigos devouring it from the other side of the horizon.
Not having gotten much sleep lately, she dozed off in those quiet few minutes she had stolen for herself before she needed to be back up and out, being the face of the Empire once again.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2014 20:26:11 GMT -8
As much as Eralam wanted to greet his lover, he figured she needed sleep more. He had made a few inroads in with the staff recently, more for the sake of not getting lost than anything else, so it wasn't hard to arrange that all nonessential traffic be routed elsewhere. The Emperor needed sleep, and dammit, that's what was going to happen.
If a bunch of freaking Sith couldn't handle things without her for a few hours, well, tough.
Meanwhile, he settled in for what had been a hobby before, but had quickly grown into a passion these last few days: cooking. He sure as hell wasn't about to eat anything cooked by the fucking staff. Everything he used, the former Shard bought himself out in town. No poison for him, dammit.
So when Sin woke up, she'd have one hell of a meal.
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Lord Sinistra
Retired High Councilor
VE Human Capital Management & Talent Acquisition
Posts: 1,474
Affiliation: The Vegemite Enclave
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Lord Sinistra on Mar 13, 2014 7:18:23 GMT -8
The chime of the comlink woke her up, from what she could tell, she had been out for about an hour. Inquiries about Eralam's location returned that he was cooking and she laughed and shook her head. Of course he was. She decided that she needed to wake up and headed off for a lengthy shower, her mind blissfully blank as she let the water run over her back, leaning on the marble tiles, eyes closed. She let the water prune her hands deeply before she shut it off and pulled herself from the steamy embrace of the glassed in stall. She pulled on a little black knit dress with a v neck and short sleeves. The short sleeves bared her forearms, the strange markings on the pale skin on the underside were faded, but still black enough to be distracting from the rest of her. The a-line skirt brushed around her knees and she completed the outfit with knee high black high heeled boots. Casual but it was still a dress. She was comfortable at least. She dried her hair, the long brown hair straight except for a slight bounce of curls at the ends. She didn't bother with jewelry, just the crystal that she always wore.
It didn't take her long to find him, and she leaned on the doorsill with arms crossed, watching him move around the ample kitchen with a familiarity as if he had spent months working in it. She didn't know what he was making but the smell of it was divine and it made her hunger only more ravenous.
"You know, if the whole despotic fallen god thing doesn't work out, I think you might have a real future in the culinary arts."
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Mar 13, 2014 9:39:29 GMT -8
If one were to look closely, one would see a shadowy form slowly coalesce at a chair at the kitchen table, feet on said table, covered in rather expensive leather dress shoes. His suit was pitch black, his hair dark and slicked back. He looked ancient yet young. Serious and mischievous all at the same time. He was studying his fingers, and in his breast pocket was a dark purple handkerchief, the same colour as his tie. He glanced over at Eralam, then at the door way where Sinistra leaned and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as the temperature dropped a few degrees.
"Little Brother, might I ask that you excuse yourself for a few moments while Lord Sinistra and I have a small....conversation? I believe she has something she wishes to discuss with me"
He continued to study his hands, as if they were the most interesting thing in the universe
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Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2014 10:47:05 GMT -8
"Little brother?"
Eralam didn't bother turning from the stove.
"I was cast out before you were a gleam in your daddy's eye. Mind your tone, boy."
The water was boiling, the Alfredo sauce was bubbling gently, and the chicken had been grilled. All that was left was the pasta.
"You have six minutes. If you're not done by them, not my problem."
He reduced the heat on the sauce and added the pasta to the boiling water.
"Word of advice: Sin is protected. The Sith are her problem. I accept that, much as I might wish to disagree. The Whills, however...I won't protect her from any deal she wishes to make of her own free will. She's a grown woman. That said, let me get even a whiff of a hint that you're fucking with her, and I will destroy you."
Eralam didn't even bother to wait for a reply. He turned heel and left the kitchen.
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Mar 13, 2014 10:55:47 GMT -8
He arched an eyebrow at the former Whill and grinned. It never touched his eyes. It never did.
"She is protected. You have no need to worry there Old Friend"
Turning back to Sin as Eralam left the kitchen, he said nothing. Just looked at her, a question in his eyes
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Lord Sinistra
Retired High Councilor
VE Human Capital Management & Talent Acquisition
Posts: 1,474
Affiliation: The Vegemite Enclave
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Lord Sinistra on Mar 13, 2014 11:05:54 GMT -8
First there was someone who materialized in her private kitchen, and it was someone Eralam knew. Then he mentioned Whills and left without so much as a look at her. She moved to let him pass, then stepped into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind her. She looked at the stove and time seemed to slow, like everything was still cooking, only very, very slowly. Seconds became minutes and the 6 minutes they were allotted would take as long as they needed to for her to talk to the Whill she had not met before.
She walked over towards him, not wearing the trappings of her station, not the mask of the Empire and not even a lightsaber. She looked like she was dressed for a dinner date and with the food on the stove, it was an easy assumption to see that Eralam was fixing their dinner. She wrapped her fingers over the top of a chair opposite him at the table, and pulled it out. Smoothing her dress down, she took a seat and crossed one leg over the other, her boots catching the light from the art deco looking chandeliers overhead.
"Who are you?"
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Mar 13, 2014 11:10:46 GMT -8
"My name is Erevis. I am what some would call a Whill. Others a God. Me? I am whatever you need me to be. I have a feeling, that deep down inside that Sithly heart of yours, is something you want......Something you feel you need. I am here to give it to you. At a price, of course."
He swung his legs gracefully off the table as he spoke, now leaning forward, elbows on the table, fingers steepled in front of his face, his dark purple eyes staring intently at Sinistra, the cold of the Dark Side rolling off him in waves.
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