![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[This time, the video feed isn't actually of her making. It is being shown from around a corner of a small gathering. Oh, the same trappings and disguises are there, since this is meant to entrap still more into the cult - but it's not got the stage management of the previous one.]
[While still disguised as the crone at the head of the cult, Tavion's modified voice comes through much more strongly. Moreover, the cultists - now some ten in number, Alora included, are wearing the robes that signify their rank and membership. There are two kinds - most are in the simpler colours of the Sith Cultists she had at her beck and call previously - and then there is Alora, her robes a blueish-purple, and a hood of blood red, extending down over her chest and belted at her waist, bearing her personal sigil.]
[Those from Tavion's galaxy may, just seeing that, be having vague feelings of familiarity, but it's what comes next that will possibly set off alarm bells.]
Welcome, our new brethren, welcome to the future.
[This is said to two men, twins, currently floating in front of her, limbs spread, jerking as the Force is imbued into them from the Scepter, bright light beaming into them, traces of it flowing out of their fingertips. This makes ten now, all told. Ten sparks of potential she has fanned into life. The problem, of course, is that she is becoming a victim of her own success - the window gaps into the home universe had allowed her to gather a dozen lightsabers from her cultists there - but soon she'll run out of those, with no really feasible way to make more of them. But success is success. She hardly needs hundreds here.]
There is so much to tell you, and so much for you to discover...
[They had known, going in, at least some of the truth - but now... There is a sound, suddenly, as the person holding the camera dislodges some piece of debris, and then the camera is dropped, the sound of footsteps making a hurried retreat. One of the cultists turns at the sound, and for the briefest of moments a distinctive cylinder - to those who know Force-users, at least, may become visible, before the camera is pulled into Tavion's hand.]
It is nothing, my friends. A curious onlooker.
[And the feed stops.]
[The problem is, of course, that the location was noticeable, findable. People can come looking. And so, she speaks to Alora.]
Take the device. Answer the inevitable. I will be nearby, should any approach you in person and you require...assistance.
[The redheaded woman nods, deeply, and prepares as the others begin to melt away - bearing their newest members with them.]
[OOC: So choose your own adventure here, folks - network questions, maybe come seek Alora in person, and we'll see what happens. I've got no plan, so let's roll some dice?]
[While still disguised as the crone at the head of the cult, Tavion's modified voice comes through much more strongly. Moreover, the cultists - now some ten in number, Alora included, are wearing the robes that signify their rank and membership. There are two kinds - most are in the simpler colours of the Sith Cultists she had at her beck and call previously - and then there is Alora, her robes a blueish-purple, and a hood of blood red, extending down over her chest and belted at her waist, bearing her personal sigil.]
[Those from Tavion's galaxy may, just seeing that, be having vague feelings of familiarity, but it's what comes next that will possibly set off alarm bells.]
Welcome, our new brethren, welcome to the future.
[This is said to two men, twins, currently floating in front of her, limbs spread, jerking as the Force is imbued into them from the Scepter, bright light beaming into them, traces of it flowing out of their fingertips. This makes ten now, all told. Ten sparks of potential she has fanned into life. The problem, of course, is that she is becoming a victim of her own success - the window gaps into the home universe had allowed her to gather a dozen lightsabers from her cultists there - but soon she'll run out of those, with no really feasible way to make more of them. But success is success. She hardly needs hundreds here.]
There is so much to tell you, and so much for you to discover...
[They had known, going in, at least some of the truth - but now... There is a sound, suddenly, as the person holding the camera dislodges some piece of debris, and then the camera is dropped, the sound of footsteps making a hurried retreat. One of the cultists turns at the sound, and for the briefest of moments a distinctive cylinder - to those who know Force-users, at least, may become visible, before the camera is pulled into Tavion's hand.]
It is nothing, my friends. A curious onlooker.
[And the feed stops.]
[The problem is, of course, that the location was noticeable, findable. People can come looking. And so, she speaks to Alora.]
Take the device. Answer the inevitable. I will be nearby, should any approach you in person and you require...assistance.
[The redheaded woman nods, deeply, and prepares as the others begin to melt away - bearing their newest members with them.]
[OOC: So choose your own adventure here, folks - network questions, maybe come seek Alora in person, and we'll see what happens. I've got no plan, so let's roll some dice?]