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Ok so I've got 2 ideas fighting for attention. One is a caricature artist who wants to make it big - and can make her drawings come to life. The other is a woman who was in town for a conference, and is very very good at finding things and navigating.
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In
Mage The Ascension: Illusion and Reality in the City of Sin
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12 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@Crimson Flame o.o I know you
In
Mage The Ascension: Illusion and Reality in the City of Sin
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12 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Deal me in.
“Yes, my Lord. I will take your words into advisement.” Oratrix bent her head as Vader turned his back on her and walked away. She felt irritation bubble in her chest at the dismissal, but stayed bowed until she could properly shove it. Vader’s dislike was obvious, and had been from the start. It was unsurprising. She was the Emperor’s new toy, after all. He’d tire of her, eventually, once she lost her shine.
If only they could have a civil conversation.
Oh well.
When she was certain the hallway was clear, she followed in Vader’s wake. Soldiers snapped to attention as she passed, deferential murmurs of ‘My Lady’ trailing after her like smoke. Her gaze cut to one smart-looking official, and she strode up to the young woman. Uniform was a touch ill-fitting, but the medals were shined to perfection. Newly promoted, no doubt, and proud of it.
“Lieutenant... Vexa. Escort me to my quarters.”
Panic and sweat broke out on the woman’s face as she paled. “My Lady.” A swift salute. “I would be honored. Right this way.” Oratrix was silent as they walked, her looming posture casting a shadow over the smaller woman. Stormtroopers and soldiers scattered as Lt. Vexa led the way. “Lord Vader’s quarters are further down the hall. These belong to you.”
The door slid open, revealing the hastily assembled finery. It was no palace, but it would do. Once the door was closed and locked behind her, she removed her uniform piece by piece, except for the mask. For that, she stepped into the restroom and locked the second door behind her.
Only then, slowly, did Oratrix pull the black mask from her face.
If anyone had seen that face, they might have noticed a passing resemblance to the late Princess Kijani Organa. They could have been sisters, perhaps, but Oratrix’s bearing was different in many ways.
A pair of yellow eyes met her in the mirror. Bright, but feverishly so, gleaming with an almost manic energy. Dark circles rung them, from sleepless weeks that turned into an endless three years in the dark. On the left side of her face, she bore a scar from the corner of one eye to the back of her head - like lightning itself had torn under her skin. Her hair was shaved to a meticulously even fuzz, edges sharp and perfectly lined.
Sometimes, in her deepest dreams, she remembered a different face. One that matched the flawless, lifeless holographic memorial that marked a dead heroine’s grave. Sometimes she remembered the warmth of a smile, a pair of blue eyes that looked at her like no one ever had… But once she woke up, damp with sweat and phantom pain, she let the truth take hold. Kijani had lived her life and died a legend.
Oratrix was a murderer, her hands yet wet with the blood of soldiers. Her heart pounded at the deference and fear when she walked into rooms. Ire, revulsion and death followed her, and it would be so until the end.
One day, she too would be celebrated, her name whispered with reverence reserved for legends.
It was just a matter of time.
If only they could have a civil conversation.
Oh well.
When she was certain the hallway was clear, she followed in Vader’s wake. Soldiers snapped to attention as she passed, deferential murmurs of ‘My Lady’ trailing after her like smoke. Her gaze cut to one smart-looking official, and she strode up to the young woman. Uniform was a touch ill-fitting, but the medals were shined to perfection. Newly promoted, no doubt, and proud of it.
“Lieutenant... Vexa. Escort me to my quarters.”
Panic and sweat broke out on the woman’s face as she paled. “My Lady.” A swift salute. “I would be honored. Right this way.” Oratrix was silent as they walked, her looming posture casting a shadow over the smaller woman. Stormtroopers and soldiers scattered as Lt. Vexa led the way. “Lord Vader’s quarters are further down the hall. These belong to you.”
The door slid open, revealing the hastily assembled finery. It was no palace, but it would do. Once the door was closed and locked behind her, she removed her uniform piece by piece, except for the mask. For that, she stepped into the restroom and locked the second door behind her.
Only then, slowly, did Oratrix pull the black mask from her face.
If anyone had seen that face, they might have noticed a passing resemblance to the late Princess Kijani Organa. They could have been sisters, perhaps, but Oratrix’s bearing was different in many ways.
A pair of yellow eyes met her in the mirror. Bright, but feverishly so, gleaming with an almost manic energy. Dark circles rung them, from sleepless weeks that turned into an endless three years in the dark. On the left side of her face, she bore a scar from the corner of one eye to the back of her head - like lightning itself had torn under her skin. Her hair was shaved to a meticulously even fuzz, edges sharp and perfectly lined.
Sometimes, in her deepest dreams, she remembered a different face. One that matched the flawless, lifeless holographic memorial that marked a dead heroine’s grave. Sometimes she remembered the warmth of a smile, a pair of blue eyes that looked at her like no one ever had… But once she woke up, damp with sweat and phantom pain, she let the truth take hold. Kijani had lived her life and died a legend.
Oratrix was a murderer, her hands yet wet with the blood of soldiers. Her heart pounded at the deference and fear when she walked into rooms. Ire, revulsion and death followed her, and it would be so until the end.
One day, she too would be celebrated, her name whispered with reverence reserved for legends.
It was just a matter of time.
"Of course the pleasure is yours." Despite the shine of her mask, the collected troops could feel the weight of Darth Oratrix's gaze as she overlooked the assembly. "Well done on such short notice, Moff Jerjerrod." She walked gracefully, flanking the Moff on Vader's opposite side as they walked inside.
"You may dispense with the pleasantries, Commander. We're here to put you back on schedule."
Jerjerrod swallowed heavily. "I assure you my lords, my men are working as fast as they can."
"Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them." Vader sounded unimpressed.
"I tell you, this station will be operational as planned."
"The Emperor does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation."
Jerjerrod floundered, clearly searching for words.
Oratrix hummed mildly, a melodic thinking noise. "If I may, Lord Vader. An honor guard in less than ten minutes warning time. Pressed and polished-" She paused midsentence, stepping toward one of the soldiers in line. The man in imperial black froze, like a prey animal. Oratrix scrutinized him from behind the mask, then delicately reached out to adjust one of the medals on his chest. Straightening it minutely. "... better."
Without any acknowledgement that she'd likely given the soldier an impromptu stress test, she rejoined the other two.
"Organized as they should be. Clearly, the problem is not with his leadership or delegation." Oratrix turned her face to the Commander. "So that leaves... resources." One ruby gloved finger touched her chin. "Correct?"
Emboldened and terrified, he spoke the truth. "The Emperor asks the impossible. I need more men."
Oratrix shifted, as if to speak. But Vader was quicker. "Then perhaps you can tell him when he arrives."
"The Emperor is coming here?"
"That is correct, Commander. And he is most displeased with your apparent lack of progress."
Oratrix interjected, as smooth as a knife between the ribs. "As we did not bring more troops, we will make the best of what we do have. Increased rations across the board. Extra protein, double the caf for the welding staff and their direct superiors. Those who elevate themselves shall be rewarded in kind. Those who do not... will bear the consequences that their efforts win them."
She watched the gears spin behind the Commander's eyes. Watched the twin seeds of praise and punishment take root. "We shall double our efforts."
Stepping back, she let Lord Vader have the last word. "I hope so Commander, for your sake. The Emperor is not as forgiving as I am." He spun on his heel and walked away. Oratrix followed. Silently, Vader turned to her.
"Extra rations, Lady Oratrix?"
"We have given them the opportunity to shine, and rewarded them for their candor. The news will travel, and productivity will rise. Not to mention, word of the Empire's benevolence and generosity. So many planets out there, bursting with people that would gladly join were it worth their sweat and blood. That should lead to a rise in volunatary recruitment, thereby adjusting the resource issue. You see, my Lord?" She watched the lights dance in the gleaming reflection of the floor. Soldiers scattering to fulfill orders. Like insects on carrion, desperate for the largest piece. "Sugar."
"You may dispense with the pleasantries, Commander. We're here to put you back on schedule."
Jerjerrod swallowed heavily. "I assure you my lords, my men are working as fast as they can."
"Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them." Vader sounded unimpressed.
"I tell you, this station will be operational as planned."
"The Emperor does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation."
Jerjerrod floundered, clearly searching for words.
Oratrix hummed mildly, a melodic thinking noise. "If I may, Lord Vader. An honor guard in less than ten minutes warning time. Pressed and polished-" She paused midsentence, stepping toward one of the soldiers in line. The man in imperial black froze, like a prey animal. Oratrix scrutinized him from behind the mask, then delicately reached out to adjust one of the medals on his chest. Straightening it minutely. "... better."
Without any acknowledgement that she'd likely given the soldier an impromptu stress test, she rejoined the other two.
"Organized as they should be. Clearly, the problem is not with his leadership or delegation." Oratrix turned her face to the Commander. "So that leaves... resources." One ruby gloved finger touched her chin. "Correct?"
Emboldened and terrified, he spoke the truth. "The Emperor asks the impossible. I need more men."
Oratrix shifted, as if to speak. But Vader was quicker. "Then perhaps you can tell him when he arrives."
"The Emperor is coming here?"
"That is correct, Commander. And he is most displeased with your apparent lack of progress."
Oratrix interjected, as smooth as a knife between the ribs. "As we did not bring more troops, we will make the best of what we do have. Increased rations across the board. Extra protein, double the caf for the welding staff and their direct superiors. Those who elevate themselves shall be rewarded in kind. Those who do not... will bear the consequences that their efforts win them."
She watched the gears spin behind the Commander's eyes. Watched the twin seeds of praise and punishment take root. "We shall double our efforts."
Stepping back, she let Lord Vader have the last word. "I hope so Commander, for your sake. The Emperor is not as forgiving as I am." He spun on his heel and walked away. Oratrix followed. Silently, Vader turned to her.
"Extra rations, Lady Oratrix?"
"We have given them the opportunity to shine, and rewarded them for their candor. The news will travel, and productivity will rise. Not to mention, word of the Empire's benevolence and generosity. So many planets out there, bursting with people that would gladly join were it worth their sweat and blood. That should lead to a rise in volunatary recruitment, thereby adjusting the resource issue. You see, my Lord?" She watched the lights dance in the gleaming reflection of the floor. Soldiers scattering to fulfill orders. Like insects on carrion, desperate for the largest piece. "Sugar."
Jinny imitated Jinx's look, that scathing, searching stare. She did as she was instructed after a moment and settled on the solo chair near the couch. Mentally, she debated whether or not to tell the truth.
"I mean. Not really?" Jinx was going to find out anyway. What better time to start what she and Otou-san had decided yesterday. "Sensei might have bought me one if I knew it existed. Because it might keep me from taking stuff apart when he was gone. Or building stuff." Fascinated, she watched the opening screen, and idly added. "- and testing it in the backyard."
"...this guy looks like a porcupine."
"I mean. Not really?" Jinx was going to find out anyway. What better time to start what she and Otou-san had decided yesterday. "Sensei might have bought me one if I knew it existed. Because it might keep me from taking stuff apart when he was gone. Or building stuff." Fascinated, she watched the opening screen, and idly added. "- and testing it in the backyard."
"...this guy looks like a porcupine."
I'm fine with 1 x 1's but I am SLOW. Like, I'm not gonna post every day or even every other day slow? And I do not expect you to either. Like if you post once a week that's 100% fine with me.
If you're ok with that we can work out the rest of the details.
If you're ok with that we can work out the rest of the details.
Did this ever start?
"I mean, a few?" Jinny floated up to the fridge and put the ice pack in the back where it would be coldest. Then she removed the bag of stir fry vegetables, and wrapped it in a towel. "What's that thing?" She pointed at the aging game system. "And what's your actual name? I heard Jinx from other people but I probably shouldn't call you that, right?" The makeshift ice pack was held out, casually. "...also I've got the weird part before from... well... everyone." The staring students from her father's class earlier still existed in the back of her mind.
"Never nice, though. That's new!"
"Never nice, though. That's new!"
The other figure opposite Vader inclined her head gracefully. Despite wearing a polished black mask that hid her face, and every expression, there was a sense of aloof regality in her posture. "When have I ever, Lord Vader? Perish the thought that I would run low of expectations." The red-painted lips on her mask were forever upturned in a slight smile, like she knew something that others didn't. Eyes painted dark, and forever wide, watching, watching, watching....
"Considering what happened to the last station, I am less than surprised that the workers continue to drag their heels. They likely need a touch of redirection. Less of the whip, more of the sugar."
Despite knowing that Lord Vader could not see it, Oratrix smiled beneath her mask. There was a tightness in Oratrix's poise. Perfect control, like a dancer balanced on tiptoe. A beauty that seemed effortless - unless you knew the years of work that went into making it seem just that.
"It will be my utmost pleasure, my lord. I anticipate your future praise." She inclined her head in a bow, ever the polite charmer.
"Considering what happened to the last station, I am less than surprised that the workers continue to drag their heels. They likely need a touch of redirection. Less of the whip, more of the sugar."
Despite knowing that Lord Vader could not see it, Oratrix smiled beneath her mask. There was a tightness in Oratrix's poise. Perfect control, like a dancer balanced on tiptoe. A beauty that seemed effortless - unless you knew the years of work that went into making it seem just that.
"It will be my utmost pleasure, my lord. I anticipate your future praise." She inclined her head in a bow, ever the polite charmer.
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