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#oc: nemore'xiel
arcann · 1 year
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Summer and Forest for Diokos? :0
— Forest
His name spoken by a voice, like a song long forgotten, chases him to the woods. And he flees from her like a coward, just as she did long ago.
More often than not he found his parents in the two polar opposites of his life and nothing good came from approaching one side or the other, despite their physical absence. He had been stuck in the middle for decades, directionless, letting others take him where they wanted because when he alone took off these sort of things would happen.
He would get lost. That deep seated sadness, born of his isolation during childhood, would catch up to him and constrict itself to his chest like a tether. He would have to accept how lonely he had felt lately. He would feel vulnerable. And he was being chased.
The foot soldiers were afraid of the forest that surrounded the base built on Odessen’s largest continent. From what Diokos had heard, they weren’t the ones who built the foundations of this place; a special task force quickly established a base, an imitation of well known Republic models built in forested areas and when their troops arrived there was enough built to keep what roamed around them wary. 
But those beings were still there. Watching, stalking, measuring them. The sith didn’t waste time in building fear of the outer wilds, making up fantasies that would keep a steady income of discomfort that could fuel their strength or help them flaunt their power. The jedi tried to quell their rivals’ hearsay but the few who went out to explore and try to commune with the planet’s energy came back defeated, many times injured and reluctant to share their tales. Force user or not, one could feel the eyes of something well hidden in the shadowy roots of the forest.
Then the mandalorians arrived en masse. Ten or twenty members of different clans became entire squads eager for action between battles and they had explored the wilds despite the recent myths and the considerable accidents they were forewarned about. In just a few weeks they had compiled a catalog of the animals that roamed around and the tricks they had pulled on them. All the specimens seemed empowered with some kind of force, making them more ferocious and clever. Shit similar to Dromund Kaas they described it, for the lack of xenozoologists in the army. Some clans shared their information, some didn’t. 
Nemore’xiel told him none of it was worth their losses. The Alliance was fine with their tall tales, it kept everyone focused. They wouldn’t be here for long and the animals would soon take the base back for themselves. Some troopers wanted to take hunting trips for a hobby, to return with something to show off back home. A waste of resources.
Now Diokos was here, experiencing first hand what this forest was like. It didn’t offer a view, it didn’t make space for him, it didn’t show him a discernable path. Every step he took he fought for it, against gnarled roots, long leaves, unsuspecting animals and the teeming force that spread all around him. He wasn’t wanted here since he refused so fiercely to be stopped. He pushed so fast and for so long through the forest he noticed he was being rejected well deep inside it, when the Alliance base had been completely hidden by the trees.
He was lost.
But then her voice called for him again, as if she knew exactly where he was. Too close for comfort and yet too far to feel safe, to feel like he could have those days back. The past where safety was still a possibility and not just a child’s dream, being lured to sleep by his mother’s lullabies as ashes fell outside their window.
No. He didn’t want anything that had left him behind, just as he didn’t want anything set in front of him. He refused to be caught.
He ran.
Now for something completely different lol
— Summer
Arcann leans on the handrail of the scaffolds, watching the crew of a small cargo ship load several boxes to their hold with fake interest. They’re laughing and pretending to fight each other, making them the noisiest lot in the Alliance’s spaceport. For a moment, Diokos thinks he’s going to drop down and attack them, the way he’s focused on their mundane activities but that scenario leaves his mind quickly. Despite the stories of his cruel treatment towards the Zakuulan palace’s staff becoming infamous, that would be pushing his luck too much for something as petty as an annoying group of friends. 
He doesn’t need his paranoia towards the man inciting his imagination to reach ridiculous levels. But he still doesn’t like the way the overthrown emperor glances back at him. He knew sith who used masks for a long time then became improperly expressive in the rare occasion they removed them, getting so used to the protection the metal hiding their face offered them. However, the man in front of him had lately taken off his own mask in front of him and even a few feet away Diokos still couldn’t figure out his intentions. 
“Tell me, how do you as a sith have fun?”
…what?
The question surprises Diokos and he catches himself before he becomes the one who lets his confusion show. He’s still not used to how different Arcann’s voice sounds without the voice modulator. Calm, almost mellow. Clearly bored.
He could make up a vague threat but he’s not in the mood to do so. They just finished an exploratory mission with very little results and the extensive questioning from their superiors that would soon follow would be much more tedious than the job itself. The worst part is not even done. He's just as bored as Arcann seems to be.
“As a sith? Oh, I drink all my friends under the table, what with my singular liver and all, then I win every game we play together. I've been known to play rough so I only fool around people who can keep up.” He makes a pause as Arcann’s healthy eye widens, turning his attention towards him instead of the noisy crew.
“Or do you want me to say I make my own soldiers sing my favorite song while I electrocute them and laugh when they start to cry? That’s how the Academy taught me to answer these types of questions. Or else.”
A dry laugh escapes his companion and half of a smirk stays there.
“Really? Would anyone believe me if I asked around about you?” His tone is mocking and Diokos answers in kind.
“Oh sure, ask around. I’m sure they would all be thrilled to answer all your questions about me.”
Arcann glances back at the lower level, the people filling the room then back at him. “Point taken. Wouldn’t want anyone to think there’s unrest in the Commander’s meticulously crafted special squad.” He lowers his voice to a point where anyone who wasn’t a force user might have trouble listening to him “And I prefer to ask you directly anyway.”
Diokos hums at that, expecting his old enemy to return to his vacant silence but he’s surprised once again.
“What’s your favorite season? As a sith.” 
He doesn’t want to play games anymore, but there’s no point in lying. A straightforward answer would be enough.
“Summer.”
“Oh? Summer on every planet or a certain one?” He shrugs but that doesn’t stop Arcann from pressing.
“Do you dream of lounging in the golden sand of Corellian beaches, sunbathing in the summer and letting others spend fortunes just to share the pleasure of your company… as most mercenaries do?” Vitiate’s son smiles at him, different this time, his eyes shining more than usual.
Why does everyone bring up Corellia?
Diokos doesn’t know why he brings up Corellia but he must know what he did there. A star fortress was stationed there after all. But this sounds like a cheap joke at his expense and just that.
“No.” The sith elongates the word as he rolls his eyes. Arcann flinches at that and his smile falters, confusing him more. “I feel fine during that season in most places, that is all.”
His joints hurt less and he likes to sweat without exerting himself but that would show weakness and some people seem to think it’s gross so he keeps it to himself. The days last longer and the skies are clear, many of them which show themselves in shades of blue which are a small delight for him. He feels childish for thinking that way but he can’t find it in himself to stop enjoying those moments. 
No one needs to know, especially not this man.
“It’s strange that Cipher Nine hasn't called for us. Come on, let’s figure out why he has kept us waiting for so long.” And then plain as day, Arcann can’t stop his annoyance from showing.
“But what did I– never mind. Whatever. Yes… my lord. Let's leave.”
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arcann · 3 years
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Pictures of my favorite children of the moment before birthday is over
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arcann · 2 years
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7 and 10 for diokos and nemore’xiel?
Thank you Dani! 🖤
7. How would you describe your oc’s voice? Do they have an accent? Do you have any voice claims for them?
- I think for both of them their voice actor fit! Bertie Carvel and Mark Bazeley do a great job for the agent and warrior respectively.
I do think that Diokos retains his imperial accent long after leaving the empire and he's a bit self-conscious about it but has no idea how to hide it. To him it's Just How He Talks. Nemore'xiel is good at not just hiding it but replicating other accents. They do break if he gets uncomfortable or angry. It's difficult to reach that point for him but it's been known to happen. After years of leaving the chiss ascendancy and the empire he starts to lose the accent and can't be bothered to imitate it.
10. How is your oc about medical care? Do they avoid any form of healthcare that they can, do they seek it out over every little scrape? Do they treat their injuries/illness all by themselves?
- Since he was a child Diokos has had the tendency (read bad habit) to hide his injuries and illnesses until they become an emergency but he doesn't avoid care once he realizes how bad the situation is. He knows basic health care and with his force powers he can hold off more grievous damage but there are limits to this and he doesn't want others to know them and use it against him. In sickness he puts a strong face even when he's stuck in bed and he tells others it's not as bad as it looks. In general he's a bad patient and his dad was a shit doctor so he gets a bit freaked out if someone wants to tend him.
Nemore'xiel tries to fix things with medication and can heal himself from most of the usual chiss ailments but he looks for aid if he needs it. He keeps a close look of what's been done to him and how he reacts though. He does like it when his loved ones take care of him though and he'll let himself be tended to if he trusts you.
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arcann · 3 years
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I have the brainworms that make me move these eight ocs around every universe or else I’d miss them.
Dario Mendes - Lasombra, 7th Gen, embraced at age 31, his trials to be embraced involved the betrayal of several friends and teachers, concluding in his own betrayal against his father, member of a ghoul family who had long since served the clan. This left him with a grudge that expressed itself by leaving his own clan behind, being considered a weak link from his lineage. Anarch who hates the sabbat and after the lasombra alliance, the camarilla but merely by association.
Beáta Thorpe - Ventrue, 8th turned 7th Gen through diablerie (and in process of fighting for control of her body), embraced at 30, only able to drink from people with sucessful leaderships. Around 500 years of age as a kindred but due to extensive damage she had to spend most of them in torpor until she awakes to the modern nights and tries to make sense of this new world on her own. Taken in by the Camarilla but so far she’s disappointed with what she sees and how rigid rules are.
Noelle [REDACTED] - Cappadocian, unknown generation, embraced at 24, has survived the hunt of the Giovanni through sheer talent, hoarding enough blackmail and secrets not even the camarilla promise of non intervention could break and if that’s not enough to cover her, she has tricks under her sleeve no one would guess (yes it means several diablerized elders of different clans, both their powers and their shambling corpses with renewed energy). Casual camarilla but mostly unaligned.
Thea Hill - Salubri, unknown generation, embraced at 25 by mistake during her sire’s final crisis, which led her to believe she was a caitiff for a time, barely surviving in the unknown world that suddenly opened itself beneath her. Anarch as survival dictates it so, but she keeps a safe distance from most.
Phemie Elu - True Brujah, 6th Gen, embraced at 33, she jokes about having more in common with the younger brujahs but the few people who know her well have learned not to underestimate her control over the temporis technique or the knowledge she has stored across centuries. Loyal only to her clan.
Yseult Terrell - Thinblood from a Toreador sire, 15th Gen, embraced at 20, able to walk under the sun, following the edicts of the clan that rejects her, she is charming and open to as many friendships as possible but so far she has had little success. An anarch just looking to pass her nights in peace and with those who welcome her.
Florencia “Felix” Weiss - Gangrel, 10th Gen, embraced at 22 when her mother was a neonate, during a frenzy of hers. Unwilling to keep up with the plain lifestyle of her clan, she stakes out in the city, rejecting any familiar for the time being. She can’t deny she connects well with monkeys though. Right now her life is an anarch party after another, getting creative at avoiding conflict whenever it comes looking for her.
Rex C. Newman - Banu Haqim, 12th Gen, embraced at 27 after his clan’s introduction to the Camarilla, although his contact with kindred started since he was young, with his biological father being a kindred, the target of the assassin clan. He was taken away from his father before he could take him in as a childe. A vicious and effective tracker and executor, he has been denied the princedom of a city several times, putting him at odds with leadership.
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arcann · 3 years
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1-star reviews of the iliad
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arcann · 3 years
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Our fathers were evil men, all of us here. They left the world worse than they found it. We’re not going to do that. We’re going to leave the world better than we found it.
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arcann · 3 years
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🙃🙃🙃
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arcann · 3 years
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appearance 4, facts 1, bonus 5 + nemore’xiel
thanks!
Appearance
4. what’s their “aesthetic”?
going to very cold, snowy places with very light clothes, coats with many hidden pockets, boots with knives hidden under them, alarms going off but no one pays them any mind, injuries with a hidden meaning from a ritual he cannot understand, isolation, attempts to heal on his own, cocktail drinks with poison in them, harps playing in the distance, the cold deep space, journeys with no going back.
Facts
1. what do they always carry?
a utility knife, several bullets of different sizes, his modified holocomm, his device to disguise himself as a human and during his time as an imperial agent, a suicide pill. he doesn't like to think about the last one.
Bonus
5. what‘s your favorite headcanon you have for your oc?
I'm putting several too
- his first mission was a disaster. he almost sank in a swamp back in Hutta and Phierre had to rescue him and he made her promise not to tell anyone.
- he spent a year as Jadus' experiment in the dominator and that experience left him scarred in several parts of his body with markings he can't read, he assumes its in ancient sith. right now he's looking for someone to read them for him. this was ideal for his career as an agent since his trauma pushed him into being someone far more archetypical to the image of a cipher and he's very resentful of that.
- he has an actually healthy family situation but he distances himself for years, feeling like he doesn't deserve them anymore.
- he brought down malgus by blowing up his throne right under him and finishing him with poison.
- Theron is planning on sending him to assassinate acina once he defenestrates him from the alliance.
- he doesn't understand kaleesh art so he asks Phierre to make replicas so he knows what he's looking at. but sometimes he just asks her to paint things, especially when his birthday is close by.
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arcann · 3 years
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👀👀👀
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arcann · 2 years
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I fucking hate interpol
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arcann · 3 years
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was thinking that since poor Nemore’xiel has his face all scarred and he still needs to go undercover... and he kinda never got over hunter in a healthy way
human holo disguise
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arcann · 3 years
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nemore’xiel blowing up m*lgus on his throne like a fucking cherry bomb in the toilet lmfao
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arcann · 3 years
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2 general for whoever it fits best?
Thanks Sierra!! Sadly you (and Nemore’xiel) are getting Arcann x Diokos 😈
2. “It’s pouring rain why are you here?”
Livabatlasu was peculiar, even for an oceanic planet. With a day that lasted thirty hours, twenty seven of those where spent in an unstoppable rain and twenty two with precipitations so heavy, only heavy specialized shields or beings with carapaces could withstand them. The sun would never hit the land and the skies were never clear. Theron Shan and his (now extremely exclusive and well-guarded) troupe thought it could work as an option to install another cell for the alliance in this planet. Too bad he didn't know about the maneuvers required to land safely there.
He doesn't know anything, Rexiel thought bitterly, but that was a lie. He wouldn't go around saying the one who bested him was inept, not even in his mind.
Who knows how Kaliyo had managed it but after a very rough descent, the Phantom arrived to a landing pad in the middle of a fearsome ocean. Their problems hadn't ended there, as the very opportune place had turned out to be a pirate's den, ready to assault anyone who tried to look for asylum. Most of them were gen’dai, quarren and a crustacean species he couldn't identify. Nephran, Kaliyo told him later, always amused when the chance to prove he didn’t know everything presented itself. Those species clearly withstood the weather but they learned afterwards that they had arrived at what was considered the more peaceful hours of the rain.
The pirates attacked in two groups, one blowing up the door while the other broke in from the cockpit. They were doomed to fail since they received a sith lord as a welcoming party from one side and whatever a child of Valkorion could be categorized on the other. Rexiel knew being considered knights of Zakuul annoyed both of them, especially Arcann. Still, they followed orders, Kaliyo and the disgraced emperor surprising him by making a powerful team that could make even gen’dai back down. The window in the cockpit couldn’t be saved along with some secondary functions while the other side had only lost the door and ruined the carpet. The pirates had taken less than three minutes of combat to quickly realize their losses, surrender and offer to make repairs.
Already Kaliyo was mingling with them, organizing some sort of party that would probably end up with them running out of alcohol and kolto. Maybe she could convince some of them to join the Alliance, if she didn’t see value for her own diversions first. He could stay vigilant at her side, sweet-talking her into giving their cause more opportunities while having fun. But he was tired, of the noise and the violence, of this petty mission. He knew Theron was spurring him into submission, sending him on missions that weren’t worth his time or skills with teams that barely fit his style. This way Rexiel would lose time to prepare a counterattack and when he came back the sky blues and pristine whites of the Republic will soon be decorating all of Odessen, making it impossible to win the Alliance back. It wasn’t hostile or personal, but a spymaster could read another with ease.
It stung.
No, he decided to focus on getting a look of this planet while on its calmer hours, the dark clouds still pouring, getting ready to restart the unbearable rain soon. He wanted to see Csilla in each one of them, but the temperature was too high to lie to himself for a bit and pretend it was a particularly humid summer in the icy planet. He went to the border of the platform of the den, which stood five meters above sea level and heard laughter to his left. He knew that voice, the sith lord laughed like that when he didn’t have to keep up appearances and look intimidating when people he didn’t trust were looking. The chiss moved towards the sound and leaned into the mollified sea, even if that could change any second.
“It’s pouring rain” He shouted over the wind and the turmoil so Arcann and Diokos would turn upwards and look at him. He was repelled with the idea of spying on these two before announcing his presence. There was no new information to gain for them and he would (privately) admit that Diokos was his friend. He would respect his privacy. “Why are you here?”
The shock was clear in their faces, slow to recover. Diokos was the first one to do so, smiling as if he was right on Nemore’xiel’s side, not splashing around with who ten months ago was his sworn enemy. “Pirates bled all over Arcann, in his expensive pretty white outfit…” He got pushed harshly for the comment but that made him laugh harder. “Even if he’s making it incredibly hard, I’m helping him wash but I guess we uh…” They looked at each other and gestured silently, something Nemore’xiel couldn’t understand. They already have a language the chiss noted, a bit uncomfortable. Maybe they were going too quickly for this type of relationship to be developed. The sith’s next comment interrupted his train of thoughts. “Want to join us?”
That took him by surprise. The former emperor looked clearly displeased with this turn of events and for a moment Rexiel didn’t know what to do. He had felt uncomfortable and anxious the entire trip, even his coat wouldn’t stop him from trembling with stress. He knew he would be in charge of repairing the ship, Kaliyo being (or acting) too distracted to do anything for it and the force users had barely any knowledge with repairs. He would have to manage with what the pirates had to offer, having to tolerate their quirks and attitudes. Then he would have to report every material loss and expense in detail. On arrival someone would hawk over his mission summary and find flaws that overall wouldn’t really matter. He would later have to coordinate with Arcann, Diokos and Kaliyo to have a firm argument on why Livabatlasu wouldn’t work as a base. And he would feel Theron’s presence the entire time, mocking him out of the corner of his eye. His ship was damaged, his friend wasn’t paying attention to him and these two lovebirds were having a pretty nice time before he came in.
Well he thought isn’t annoying Arcann still the Alliance’s favorite sport?
He closed his eyes and cannonballed to the water.
He could hear Diokos roaring laughter even if he was sinking fast. Then he felt a firm hand grabbing his arm and pulling him to the surface. Once there he could breath and stay floating with ease which was confusing. The ocean was calmer than when they arrived but it wouldn’t abate like this. Then he noticed that a few feet away the waves broke against an invisible wall. The motions around him felt close to gentle. Protected by a sith Nemore’xiel thought, amused. Most of Diokos’ kind would get a kick out of seeing him struggle to get up but the sith had reacted quickly, still holding him, to reassure him after the shock of the cold water.
It would have hurt had he not been chiss. The cold felt revitalizing and the adrenaline coursed through him, enough to make him ask Diokos if he would help him to do a few laps around the base. But when he pushed his hair away from his face he realized what he ended up doing.
Third wheeling a sith lord and a former emperor didn’t sound pleasant at all.
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arcann · 3 years
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For the soft OC asks: 🌹 for nemore'xiel and iaparce
Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?
For Nemore’xiel
He left Csilla when he was young to train on Hoth but he cherishes the planet dearly and would always call it his home. It’s kind of like a public secret and a personal joke, to have something so known and ordinary being so important to him (he’s just another chiss from Csilla, nobody would really care or be surprised about it). He’s patriotic in his own way and would do anything to protect it. But Csilla is an ideal for him in his adulthood and it was risky to go back for a very long time. In a more individual level he feels at home the most wherever Phierre is. He thinks everything he hides about himself, he can let it bare when he’s with her and she would find a way to make him feel safe. In the end, when they finally achieve peace, they move around the galaxy rebuilding clan Lok and training mandalorians but always make an effort to retun to Csilla yearly.
For Iaparce
Their home planet is Generis and while they spent their childhood and some of their teenage years there it never felt like there was anything left to tie her to it. By then their force powers where starting to show and they couldn’t control them well enough to not… influence others whether they wanted to or not. It caused them a lot of discomfort and guilt over the years. In their youth they would call Zellas their sibling and wherever they went together home but she knows it was just a desperate way to comfort themself during the war. They had lost their sibling some time ago and every day they were more distant until they broke off. Later on, after their exile, wherever it is they can put their friends together, as safe and as comfortable as they can be without petty fighting is a place where they could call home. They do settle in Coruscant to rebuild the jedi order and finds a sense of peace in there, her family ever growing in their lineage of apprentices.
Thanks Leilukin 💜
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arcann · 3 years
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For the Jumbo Ask Game: 🌹 for nemore'xiel and yngram
thank you Leilukin!! 💜
🌹 How easy is it for them to connect with others and make friends? On the flip side how easy is it for them to make an enemy of someone? Are they the kind of person who hangs around the food table at a party and never talks to anyone or are they the type who can talk to anyone?
For Nemore’xiel
- He used to be able to connect with others easily  but after his ordeal with Jadus he merely acts and observes, being as cold and clinical as possible no matter what he must do. His past relationships are precious to him though and he would do anything to keep them safe, even if it involves staying away. He doesn’t search for enemies but his work brings them out anyway and he will be vicious with them. In a party he would look around if he finds someone interesting or useful and if no one like that presents themselves he will hang out with his friends or alone, trying to not bring any attention to himself.
For Yngram
- She is always trying to make friends and then make those people be friends between each other, wanting to make everyone feel comfortable or rescue a more precarious relationship. At worst she adopts her friends’ enemies but she is open to dialogue (unless, of course, it’s disrespectful to her friends since enemies could have possibly crossed lines and become unforgivable) She talks with everyone, extroverted or introverted and is constantly dragged to the center of the party by other people. She might not be in the spotlight constantly but she’s always close by.
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arcann · 3 years
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💬 + Nemore'xiel
Nemore’xiel is constantly fixing and perfecting Phierre’s visual aid which double as cybernetics so the process might take hours while it downloads new informations, so they use that time to gossip about people and all the people they saw during the week. He can say all he wants about gathering intel, it’s straight up gossip. They stay like that until very late at night. The cybernetics are ready but they keep talking shit about other people in the alliance
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