#bryasere algrei

[inquisitorhotpants]

Kryn: My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips. What should I do?

Lysch: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Scourge: Tackle him.

Vowrawn: Dump him.

Bryasere: Kick him in the shin.

Marr: NO TO ALL OF THOSE. JUST ASK ME TO LEAN DOWN.

[angstmongertina]

OC Kiss Week: Day Three

Because Dee will apparently never be free of me swooping in and writing ridiculous stuff about her characters, I finally return to the hilariousness that is Sartoris AU!Yin and the slow burn that is @inquisitorhotpants‘ Coffee Nerds. Specifically Barash. (Don’t worry, Yin has no intentions of interfering any more than she needs to.)

Themes are taken from here.

Day 3: heated kiss | cheek kiss

It’s a well-known fact throughout Kaas City that Barash Clechad does not date Sith and, for that matter, not much of anyone at all. It’s a fact that’s rife with speculation among the Citadel’s gossip circle, especially considering his easygoing, friendly demeanor and casual handsomeness. Every theory, from a hidden marriage to bad experiences to secret pining for some lucky, already taken soul, has been discussed, traded, and occasionally offered as solace to the unfortunate rejected suitor of another failed attempt.

For the past year, Yin has watched it all with barely hidden amusement. Working in the Sphere of Diplomacy and Expansion as she does, missing the rumors in the Citadel grapevine is almost impossible, though she must admit that she does pay a fair bit more attention to gossip about her friends than she does to most of the drivel that passes through the office.

Then again, she supposes that she would likely find the speculations about Barash far more interesting if she didn’t have her own speculations about what exactly he found lacking in his numerous hopeful suitors. Or, perhaps more accurately, who.

Really, though, it’s honestly a wonder that nobody else seems to have even realized it.

But, given the fact that his counter, once again, has more than a few patrons dressed far more elegantly than Primeday morning at the Citadel ever called for, they have not. And nor have they given up in their plans on obtaining the attentions of the barista who is quite possibly on his way to becoming the most eligible—or, at least most popular—man on the concourse.

Yin pauses mid-step as the sight fully registers. As always, the queue for caf is impressive, stretching from the stand across the atrium floor in a manner that casts no doubt as to what day of the week it is. Primeday has always been Barash’s busiest day, especially in preparation for morning meetings, and, knowing both Barash’s need for efficiency as well as Darth Marr’s utter punctuality,  it is no great surprise to find that Bryasere is nowhere to be found.

However, several women have apparently elected to take advantage of that key absence.

That alone is not enough to stall her, but they also seem to be doing their best to distract him from his work, with no consideration for the line of impatient Sith beside them, nor the politely neutral look of discomfort on his face.

And that, on the other hand, is.

She glances briefly at her chrono, though it’s more for show than to really make a decision either way; she has no pressing business this morning and, quite frankly, it wouldn’t matter even if she did. Not compared to the importance of dealing with this.

After all, if she’s learned anything in the past years, she’s learned that her friendships are valuable… and that, as a diplomat, her ability to work out a peaceful solution without requiring security intervention is considerably better than Bryasere’s, so she should probably step in before word of this spreads any farther and does alert Lord Algrei; Bryasere might be Second to Darth Marr, but that didn’t quite grant her absolute immunity.

Instead, Yin plastered her most adoring smile to her face before making a beeline for the counter, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Barash, I’m back!”

Momentary shock passes over his face, so quickly replaced by his usual polite expression that she would have missed it if she didn’t know him as well as she does, before he smiles with genuine affection. “Ahhh, my dear, might I remind you to check if I have customers before…?”

“Oh!” She makes a show of turning to notice the women at the counter, one of whom, with sharp green eyes and pale hair swept into an intricate updo, sweeps over her features with poorly masked displeasure and unrecognition.

Ducking her head, ostentatiously in deference but also to keep her amusement hidden, Yin smirks. Through their reputation of paper-pushing, the Sphere of Diplomacy and Expansion has few visitors, granting her relative anonymity, a fact that has never worked in her favor quite as well as it does now. “I apologize, my lord. I had no intention of interrupting. I’m afraid I was simply excited to return. Was there anything you wished to order? I’d be happy to cover the charge to make up for my ill manners… No? Then go on, Barash, I’m sure you have plenty of orders to take care of. No, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure to make up for this. Besides, it’s my fault…”

When she’s finished shepherding the group away from the counter with ample sycophantic flattery, she returns to the caf stand, noting the now lack of line with satisfaction. “Well, that was certainly exciting.”

As though caught, Barash flushes somewhat. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get so caught up in—”

She waves her hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. What are friends for? Though…” And her grin turns impish. “I also wouldn’t say no to a large caramel latte and a promise to never tell Bryasere what happened.”

At that, he laughs. “I know better than that. Give me some credit here. And one large caramel latte on the house coming right up.”

[inquisitorhotpants]

“You requested my presence?”

For the first time, Marr truly understands why Sith parents are so demanding of their children. By the time he was bound for the preparatory academy, bowing to his superiors was second nature, as was the appellation my lord. And here is a 26 year old woman who cannot even manage the second, let alone the first.

“Begone. Return when you can comport yourself properly.”

He turns his attention back to the datapad on his desk, at least by all outward appearances. In reality, he’s watching her.

Her eyes narrow, her mouth thins. Opens momentarily, though she thinks better of it. She abruptly executes a military-perfect about face and disappears back through the doors. They’ve hardly closed behind her when they re-open, though to Marr’s minute surprise it’s Bryasere who strides into his office.

“Did you wish me to announce your apprentice, my lord?” she asks archly, subtle derision on apprentice. She’s made no secret - privately, of course - of her disapproval of this entire experiment with Althalji. We have perfectly acceptable Sith across the Empire, my lord. Why drag a Jedi into it? What are you trying to prove? At some point, she’ll come to see the wisdom of his choice, or just accept that he has some eccentricities she can’t talk him out of indulging.

“No. I wished my apprentice to announce herself properly.”

A smirk pulls at the corner of Bryasere’s mouth. “Still not bowing, is she?” When he doesn’t answer, she shakes her head. “She’s a Jedi. I told you, you’ll never make a decent Sith out of her.”

“Nonsense. The groundwork has already been laid. She simply needs to learn basic customs and courtesies. Tell her she has been taught, and to do it properly or she will be ... instructed.”

“I was so hoping to be your errand girl today.”

Marr tolerates no small amount of what could be considered insubordination from his Second, because Bryasere more than makes up for it with her talents in the position, but sometimes he simply isn’t in the mood. “Lord Algrei.”

The smirk immediately drops off Bryasere’s face, and she inclines her head. “My apologies, my lord. I will relay your message.” She pivots smartly and strides back through the doors. They close, leaving Marr’s office in blissful silence, although he can feel the flare of annoyance from Althalji.

The doors reopen.

Making no effort to school her expression into anything resembling neutral, let alone obsequious, Althalji marches back into the office like a recalcitrant schoolchild made to solve a problem in front of the class. She barely dips her head before staring straight at Marr. Silence spins out before she finally manages an entirely too snotty my lord. 

Very well.

Without so much as lifting his gloved hand entirely off his desk, he points at her, then points at the floor, manipulating the Force around her. She drops to one knee with a groan, glaring up at him. Dropping his finger back to the desk results in a bow that wouldn’t be out of place in front of the emperor, if Marr remained inclined to bow to Vitiate. He stands, stalking around the desk and coming to a stop in front of her. She struggles against the Force bonds, of course, but remains kneeling, eyes now fixed on the toes of his boots.

“I have never been disrespected by an apprentice, and I am certainly not about to allow such flagrant insubordination now. I have coddled your misbegotten teachings long enough. If you reject the opportunity to learn on your own, I will instruct you as I see fit.”

[inquisitorhotpants]

I do have this on a permanent page on my blog proper, but I figured I’d make this for sharing purposes.

Government and Politics Marriage Legalities Imperial Territory as of 1343 Imperial *Coming soon: The Spheres of the Empire

Culture and Geography Dromund Kaas Planetary Map On Population The Climate of Kaas City Sahlaj Dzun Kegimqâshwokfimlak Conlang Masterpost A Small Selection of Sith Artifacts Darth Aiis: Enigmatic Scholar Dromund Kaas Calendar Introduction to the Imperial Diplomatic Service A Bit About Pay Scales Distance/Time Travel Chart In Which I Have a Lot of Thoughts about Imperial Culture A Short Timeline of Imperial Art History Architecture of the Empire: Korriban Crypt Doors Planetary Series: Dromund Kaas Planetary Series: Korriban Planetary Series: Orinda *Coming Soon: A Treatise on the Sith Code *Coming Soon: The Way of the Sith *Coming Soon: Wedding Traditions *Coming Soon: Kaas City Megalopolis

Military Army & Navy Introductory Rank Post Crimson Legion Imperial Guard A Comparison of the Republic and Imperial Militaries

Specific to the Krynverse The Council Darth Otium Darth Atroxa Darth Nomas Bryasere Algrei Barash Clechad Talieste Laigoss Kallan Family Bloodline Hadrianus & Thais Kallan Aelia & Stefan Kallan Varinius & Adrijana Kallan Tsyaira

[inquisitorhotpants]

WIP Wednesday

“If something happens to me on this mission, you are entrusted with the stewardship of the sphere until a replacement can be appointed.”  Marr holds out the datacard.  “This contains information for Darth Vowrawn, who will assume leadership of the Council in the event of my death.”

Bryasere takes it, cupping it in one hand.  “Do you think this is a possibility, my lord?  After everything else you’ve accomplished?”

“I prepare for as many possibilities as I can, Second.  The sphere and the Council cannot be left to instability and chance.  This academy possesses a number of unknown factors, but if there is any chance this artifact is there, it is our duty to recover it, as well as any of our writings that may still be intact.”

“Yes, my lord.”  She studies the card for a moment, turning it over in her hand.  “Should you not return, I will carry out my duties to the fullest of my ability.  But I don’t believe this academy will be your end.  And I don’t believe Darth Nox would allow -” you, she thinks, though it remains unspoken on the tip of her tongue as she regards him steadily, gaze unwavering, considering the possible ramifications of admitting she knows more than she’s let on.  In the end, she settles for a calculated pause that allows for tacit denial on both sides.  “A … fellow Councilor to die on this operation.”  

“Darth Nox is aware of the primacy of the mission,” Marr says after a lengthy moment spent debating whether to acknowledge the conversation taking place between the lines.

She nods.  “As you say, my lord.  But she is just as aware as you are of the importance of duty to the Empire, and perhaps believes you’d be of more use running this sphere than dead on some frozen rock.”  There’s a bare flash of mischief.  “I know you don’t like meetings, my lord, but dying on Odacer-Faustin is a bit of an overreaction when you could simply send me.  I’ve served as your Second for nearly ten years now; I’m quite well-versed in the ins and outs of this sphere.  I can hold my own with shouting Darths.”

This time he chuckles outright.  “I know you can, but I have no wish to face your ire for interrupting you.”  He stands, and Bryasere does the same.  “I don’t plan on meeting my end on this mission, but if I do, I know the sphere is in excellent hands.”

Bryasere bows, more deeply than she has in years.  “You honor me, my lord.”  She straightens, a too-serious expression on her face.   “Please don’t forget to submit your after-action report when you return.  I would prefer not to have a repeat of the wrangling after the final battle with the Revanites.”

She’d been on him for weeks for that damn report, and he’d had no one to blame but himself; it had been his directive that all major operations have said reports filed within a week of their conclusion.  She’d made no secret of the pleasure she’d derived from bothering him for it, either, quoting they don’t take that long to compose, there is no excuse right back at him.