Hoth: Blood and Ice

[Sylvain Torsin]

Shyyyo and Nightingale stood next to the railing atop what functioned only partially as an observation deck near the hangars aboard the Spear.

They stared out of the craft at the whirling display of star systems that flew past harmlessly as the craft vaulted itself towards Hoth.

The two were locked in whispered conversation, inaudible to others nearby.

"...but you still haven't said why Father!" Nightingale lamented in a near hiss.

Shyyyo stared out into the expanse quietly for several moments. "You must be mindful child... Something is coming. Your sister is safe. I can trust your safety with no one other than myself... So with me you will stay for now. That is final."

Nightingale sighed angrily as she mumbled something to herself. The pair of them stood there quietly for several minutes as the young girl brooded over her circumstances.


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OOC: Expecting

[Darth Bellious]

This was reminding Bellious of something, but the memory was faint, perhaps just a phantasm from visions bred in the Force. The scene of a man on the observation deck, in transit. The young girl wasn't part of the recollection, that much the twintailed Sith was realising, what made her twitch toward belief that this used to be something real...

Correction: a girl was a part of the recollection. A bit older though, and different in most ways.

If you learn to cut the rope, please make your way to me. The words didn't come aloud, but the hum did, though the hummer, once a proud songstress, didn't yet realise why.

The man had her attention; masked, both alien and familiar. What was the chance that he had any correspondence to the man from the memory, faux or not? So minuscule only rigging the world's probability could justify it.

As the father-daughter duo retained their heavy silence, it allowed the Twi'lek delve deeper into the past she had partially repressed, finding bits and pieces by which a brighter picture could be repainted.

But it wasn't. Instead, the lyrics of the song came back to her fully, and shut her up. They seemed nothing but empty nostalgia, unfit to describe anything right here, right now...

...so why were they lingering oppressively on her mind? To the point when her hooded but not masked self unshackled from the darkness of the corridor, into the faint lights of the deck.

[Sylvain Torsin]

Sensing the presence of another behind him and his daughter Shyyyo turned his gaze to look at the woman that approached them.

Moments flashed through his mind... as a haunting tune drifted through his thoughts as the stars flew past.

The man gently placed his hand on the back of the young girl and whispered in her ear. The girl looked up and then around before asking, "Why?"

The gentle modulated voice came back, "Just do it."

The girl harrumphed audibly before walking towards the staircase that led towards the hangar.

The masked man then folded his arms squarely behind his back and glided gently towards the other woman.

"Darth Bellious..." He offered with a polite bow of his head.

[Darth Bellious]

"For someone who prides herself on remaining unseen most of the time, I seem to be awfully easy to recognise." Her lekku vibrated slightly as she spoke, stopping short of undulation, a subliminal extra-verbal context that only another Twi'lek would recognise for what it was.

She had let the girl depart before replying, and even after he had spoken she needed a heartbeat to sync the voice modulated by the mask with the one that resided in her head.

"And to add to my embarrassment, I don't even know how you'd like to be addressed now, especially with this mask... But perhaps there's an easy way out?" A hint of intonation borrowed from Ryl coloured the question-suggestion. "For the sake of expediency, if nothing else, how about we turn to the names that were the most natural to both of us in the lives before everything?"

[Sylvain Torsin]

A hidden smirk appeared on his lips behind the mask.

"Very well, Moyr." He gestured towards the handrailing next to him in invitation.

He waited staring out into space until she would step forward.

"Your work on Dantooine was quite admirable..."

[Darth Bellious]

She came to, and leaned against. Her lekku tips dangled down slightly, as if moved by an unseen breeze.

Letting out a wistful exhale, she glanced at him. Her lips, half-open in thoughtful suspension, finally uttered a reply that had no gloating in it.

"And yet, Sylvain, once you accomplish great things, claim vengeance, nourish hubris, grasp true power, what else is there to be done in life? More of the same? There are diminishing returns. After opening the way to the Sacking of Coruscant is there any point in doubling down, upping the ante?" Even if she had an answer of her own, she seemed genuinely interested in his. "Being as accomplished as you are yourself, I wager you've given it some thought."

[Sylvain Torsin]

The masked man looked out into the swirling of stars and was quiet for several moments.

"Sometimes Moyr... all that is left is to keep breathing. As banal and meaningless as that may be... Survival... But for what you ask?"

He paused for a long moment.

"To not die... Not fail. Not disappoint... Things I have done too much in my life already."

His face turned towards her slowly, "You always did like waxing philosophical..."

It seemed as if behind the words there was a soft smile.

[Darth Bellious]

It wasn't her answer, but she appreciated the wisdom of simplicity in Sylvain's.

"It's certainly a precondition for everything else, a vessel that can carry meanings. Hard to do so when it breaks." She actually cherished the silent moment, not striving to fill it. It let her grasp the loose ends of shredded memories and apply some makeshift knots. "...For a parent, duration of survival is less philosophical and more practical a problem."

Perhaps she sensed the smile, replying with an actually mellow shade of her own. "I did. Ah, my weakness. Or strength. Or even an addiction. Once contemplating absolutes enters your starscape, it's hard to stop thinking about bringing change..." She gestured toward the stars before them. "Making a difference across this infinity, even if it's one step at a time."

Then she chuckled, her lekku twitched as she shook them lightly, giving him an amused look. "Who did you enjoy more, the philosopher or the songstress?"

[Sylvain Torsin]

He replied quickly but gently, "The songstress... It is as you say. I'm a practical man... with practical concerns. Very much wrapped up in my practicality. Philosophy was never my strong suit. But I did enjoy the subtleties of life... long ago before I was so accomplished and renown."

[Darth Bellious]

"And what if I told you I feel compelled to sing now?" She turned her back to the stars to face him better. His gentle tone seemed to agree with her own mood, and while her intrinsic intensity never truly waned, it was now cushioned by subtle yet spontaneous charm her twintails were endowed to emphasise.

[Sylvain Torsin]

“I would be honored.” He replied simply as he looked outward continually.

[Darth Bellious]

Without ado, she first vocalised, then sang, turning back toward the view. Her interpretation was relaxed, cosy even, her mellow voice taking off some edge from the lyrics, making it more contemplative than pointed.

I know you know, there's a price for all this burn
We got to give this some release
We both know the whole thing could turn
But it's not out of out hands, not out of reach

Things change, hearts change
Nothing stays the same, nothing stays the same
Things change, hearts change
Nothing stays the same, nothing stays the same

Can't wish it, wish it, wish it, can't just wish it well
Can't medicate the day away forever
There's no winning what you have withheld
And no seeing what you keep veiled
And no holding love when it's gone

Things change, hearts change
Nothing stays the same, nothing stays the same
Things change, oh and hearts change
Nothing stays the same, nothing stays the same

[The Original]

It sounded like there could be more but this was when she broke off into deepening silence. Her voice had matured over the years, got layered texture, interspersed various emotional tones, perhaps to let the listener choose one most corresponding with their mindset or mood.

[Sylvain Torsin]

The masked man listened intently as his mind traveled to a different time and place. Sylvain didn't often allow himself to think of anything in the past... There were so few good things to relive again up there.

After several quiet moments he replied, "Your voice has only grown more beautiful with time... More... texture than I remember it having. Thank you... I know you don't flaunt it vainly."

He opened his mouth again and stuttered for a moment, "I'm s... starting to wonder what brings you on this trip to such an unappealing frost world."

[Darth Bellious]

His hesitation allowed some uncertainty on her part to become revealed. "Sylvain, I..." She began in softer tone, but trailed off for a few moments that had a soul-searching vibe to them. Her own song weren't neutral to her mood either. "I... am drawn to crises and upheavals, I tend to have my way with them. But somehow it feels like... there may be more to it this time."

Moyr didn't ask any question in return, at least not verbally as her lekku's tips had tentatively approached each other, just rested her golden gaze on his mask.

[Sylvain Torsin]

He nodded solemnly, “That premonition you have is likely not one to ignore… Something out here has drawn the attention of the Empress Regent and Baras.”

He paused for a second, “Have you had any dreams as of late?”

[Darth Bellious]

"I have always had dreams, Syl. Things I've done and I've been done to would leave no mind quiet." She sighed forlornly. "But you're asking about something specific. A staged phantasmagoria of things to come, I suppose?"

[Sylvain Torsin]

“Something that might provoke you to jump on a ship to a remote ice world.” He replied with a nod.

“There are reports of others who have… And there are a number of relatively important people all on this little venture. Something is in the works…”

[Darth Bellious]

"...Death is not the end. One can live through the processes they have set in motion." Moyr said quietly.

[Sylvain Torsin]

He turned his head towards her slightly, "What was that?"

[Darth Bellious]

"A truth. One of just a few that are true... a definition of legacy." She sighed. "We can shape the future, but not in circumstances of our choosing. Those circumstances are... someone's legacy that doesn't go quietly into the dark night of endless space. I think this is what those dreams might be: screams from across and beyond, promising great violence."

[Sylvain Torsin]

He nodded contemplatively, "Legacy is a word which I keep hearing today... In a number of different contexts..."

He then asked, "What do you suggest be done with this legacy of violence?"

[Darth Bellious]

"If you want your own to reverberate instead, there are only so many ways." Her lips thinned. "We've all been survivors. However, replacing old legacies with one of your making calls for something more..." The word was on the tip of her tongue but she withheld it, observing his mask.

[Sylvain Torsin]

“Power?” He asked the most obvious choice of words available.

[Darth Bellious]

She shook her head, and there was agitation to her lekku. The word she'd withheld, she'd heard in her dream, was complex and layered, and meant different things to different people, to the point of being almost intrinsic. For her, its semantics emerged from the love forsaken, the suffocation in the dark waters, like the fatal pain in her abdomen... The stupor of taking one life you held dear, or billions you hadn't, and the abandonment of those you wanted to live.

"Sacrifice."

She could elaborate, frame it in the Sith Code, rationalise... but she left the word bare, for it to take the meaning rooted in Sylvain's own experience. In the end, it was always personal.

[Sylvain Torsin]

The masked slit of reinforced glass which covered his eyes continued to look towards Moyr.

He said nothing for several moments... merely used his ocular perception to take in the woman standing beside him.

She was right, of course. The word's ambiguity provided considerable room for interpretation that he could attach to and follow along to a journey of philosophical self-convincing. A master of influence understood when influence was being used on him... but the motivation behind the influence... that is what always made the difference. It's what truly meant something.

He nodded once and turned his gaze back outward, "Nothing in this world is free. You either give of yourself... or give what others have on behalf of yourself. Anything of value always exacts a price. The question then becomes... what is the price... and is it worth it?"

He turned his head back towards the ship for a moment while continuing, "I have hundreds of fools who come to me each month asking for this... or that... sacrifice to be made; both literal and figurative... It's a bit of a buzz-word in the capital now. People so eager to sacrifice so much for so little..."

His grip on the handrailing tightened slightly, "As a man who has made a number of terrible purchases in my life... I'm running low on things of value left within me... But if the right thing comes up, I'll be sure to make the purchase."

He then motioned his head towards Moyr, "What does 'sacrifice' mean to you?"