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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Apr 26, 2019 22:07:49 GMT -5
IC: Voidwalker Location: Viscretus’ Shuttle, Hyperspace, En Route to Dantooine Well, well, well, and here I thought this was going to be a boring flight. Wait a minute....why does the big guy get all the action? He’s a pretty boy, and I’m a warrior. I’m bedding someone before they’re all gone. Viscretus seems fun, but in a getting clingy after type of way. The other one however....abyss eyes, no concern for others....she needs a drink!Bringing the bottle to his mouth once again, the half naked Voidwalker let the liquor spill down his throat and reveled in the burn of the alcohol. It was clearly obvious that the two Sith ladies could become physical at any moment. While it would be quite the sight, Voidwalker knew that neither of the ladies would stop until one of them laid dead, or everyone were dead. If the pretty boy wasn’t going to say anything, Voidwalker certainly would. He knew he would have to be more tasteful in his approach. The pretty boy could have the clingy temptress, Voidwalker had his sights on the other one, the lady that looked upon all with the abyss of death. Voidwalker grinned as he brought the bottle up for a final swig before making his move to keep the two ladies apart from one another. While the big man was a pretty boy, Voidwalker knew that he himself was not bad looking and could be the treat of any woman’s weekend, or hour or so. If she’s upset about not going to Yavin, then I’ll send her to Yavin with a smile on her face. It is the least I can do. Besides she told the bafoon there to go sleep with Viscretus , so why not give her a real prize?“Whoa! Ladies, please don’t due this! Not saying I don’t want to see how this plays out, but we are in Hyperspace, and that will end badly for all of us.” Taking a step closer toward the two ladies, Voidwalker extended his hand with the bottle of liquor towards Apollyon. “Let’s just calm down here. Obviously some dirty deeds have taken place but for right now there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s settle down and relax. Would you like a drink? Trust me, it’ll help you not be so angry at the moment. It’s helping me” Voidwalker smiled as he looked Apollyon in her blackout eyes, his facial expression one of genuine. “So don’t even think about it, come take a walk with me and let’s have a drink to cool off. By the way, my name is Voidwalker.” TAG: Darth Dreadwar Volshe @lordjania darthvoxyn |
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Volshe
Administrator 
.: Empress
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Post by Volshe on Apr 27, 2019 1:39:23 GMT -5
Lord Xindro Carath*character image*  *character theme music* Character Summary: Name/Title: Lord Xindro Carath (Lord Xindroc’arat’heren of the Chiss Ascendancy), Darth Arktis Age: Around 82, appears 35/40 (due to learned age slowing skill) (72 ABY) Sex: Male Species: Chiss Homeworld: Copero Occupation: Kraytite Sith, Undercover as Justiciar and Ambassador upon Dantooine Height: 180.5 cm Appearance: Severe, rather odd features. See picture. Weapons: Blood red unstable shoto blade, holdout pistol, cane with retractable point.  Equipment: Datapad, a few assorted relics, armoured tunics and military grade armours, along with mask as necessary. Description of Abilities: Astute in Force manipulation tactics, poisons and drugs. Talented in slowing aging only due to taught tactics. Very skilled charismatically and politically, his entire childhood dedicated to preparation for leadership in the Ascendancy. Personality: Charming on the surface, but cold, uncaring, selfish, judgmental, and misogynistic at heart. These traits have only worsened over time. Bio: Xindro was born on Copero, his parents and siblings on a vacation from Csilla. His father was a corporate power player, his mother a well-known judge within the Ascendancy. Both came from noble lineage, more notable, “Heren”, and his mother of Ruling Family Sabosen. He was raised in the Ascendancy until he was shown as obviously Force sensitive at the very young age of 5, in 77 ABY. His father chose to relocate him to Krayt’s One Sith, his father’s connections in Galactic government agreeing to fund the family and give him corporate connections in the Core in exchange for the potential of such a powerful Sith. His mother protested, and attempted to use her influence to hide them and the children upon multiple Chiss worlds. They eventually settled in the Mid Rim, his father always successful prior in finding and threatening them. His mother enrolled them in high end academies, ensuring they learned what was necessary to survive and thrive in an aristocratic setting. The peace lasted a few years, only, as their mother’s care revealed them upon a HoloNet programme recognizing students. At the age of 11, in 83 ABY, a hired agent of Family Heren had found them. While the children slept, their mother was slaughtered, his father framing a local gang. Xindro knew the truth, but could not speak out, as within days he was thrust into gruelling training and sent to Korriban, purely because of his midichlorian count and natural skills in powers such as mental domination and lightsaber combat. He was fully, entirely, indoctrinated - his mind and body broken, his spirit crushed and bent to Krayt’s will. He maintained his aristocratic tastes, and some of his well-educated tendencies, but shifted into a cold-blooded killer with little respect for those around him. His past brought him, notably, into a short-lived alliance and romance with Darth Viscretus from 97 to 99 ABY, but ultimately his extreme betrayal resulted in his narrowly escaping death at her hands. He was an active player in Krayt’s Empire, and has served beyond. He currently serves rather hedonistically and shamelessly on Dantooine in an undercover capacity, acting as a lecturer, local ambassador, and, like his mother, governmental justiciar, choosing to not engage in violent and potentially dangerous plots when his speciality lies in mental and academic pursuits. SKILLS: Rank/Level: 7 Class: Watcher Skills: Force push/pull – 2 Force choke – 2 Force jump – 2 Pyrokinesis – 2 Force Defense – 4 Mind Trick – 4 Force Suppression – 3 Odojinya – 2 Form I – Form II – Form III – 4 Form IV – Form V – Form VI – (Watcher only) Conceal Essence – 3 (Thanks @lord Kain for the lovely photoshop!)
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Reiis Invadator
Citizen
.: Konstig Krigare
(Tag as "@kaierlae")
Posts: 52
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Post by Reiis Invadator on Apr 28, 2019 10:41:24 GMT -5
IC: Kai Erlae Soaked and worn, Kai did as instructed, setting his blaster to heavy stun as he tried to peer past the droplets of water still trickling into his eyes. The wires...they did not give him a good feeling, that was for sure. It was bad enough they were stuck on this trash heap of a moon. Company was a dubious blessing He allowed himself to reach up briefly as he touched the damaged horn. The glue was still in place. At least he had that going for him. Kai was, by nature, a pessimist, so he saw no feasible conclusion to their stint here besides one: death. A quite painful death. Maybe even slow, at the hands of some savage beast. He didn't like to think about it. They might even starve before then, as food as quite limited. He waited, scanning the area with what light they had, ready to shoot anything that moved. TAGS: dragonsith13 darthkain7 Darth Xxys |
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Post by cliojayne on Apr 28, 2019 16:57:06 GMT -5
IC: Trin Location- Sinister Sith Temple, Korriban Trin dropped to her knees, exhausted. What should have been normal, if not easy, tasks through the force, had become almost overwhelming and impossible. Almost sick to her stomach she watched as the rocks she had pulled down toppled harmlessly behind the beast. A waste of energy. Now truly sick to her stomach Trin watched as, almost in slow motion to her eyes, Trill falling to the ground, attention locked into her side. The Zabrak’s eyes, not as clear as they might have been had she been properly immersed in the dark side, could still see the green ooze of poison filled flesh. It looked like the woman lost to time might be out for at least the rest of the battle if not longer. Exhausted, the noble woman’s mind struggled to work properly. Terentatek’s were strong and dangerous to be sure, but this could not be how this rescue mission ended. They had a purpose- a mission even- to find one small force strong boy or avenge him. The dark side here might be less welcoming, less cooperative, and potentially dangerous- but surely no one, regardless how powerful, could mess up the basic mechanics of how it worked? Trin allowed herself to become angry. Very angry, in fact. She was still angry at Trill for putting herself into a position that not only endangered herself but the rest of the party. Who tried to tame a kriffing Terentatek- regardless of if they had seen them before? She was angry at Volacius for being so focused on what he saw as prioritizing his own survival he missed the fact that they all had a better chance of survival and success if they worked together. She was mad at herself for not processing Trill’s injury quickly enough to avoid adding insult and potential injury to what was already an injury. She was angry at Malos for being incapacitated so quickly and now, as the most experienced Sith (that they could understand to be entirely fair to Tril- but that didn’t matter) who might have insight or experience with this kind of creature he was useless to them. She was angry at whoever had taken Kento in the first place. Most of all she was unbearably angry at who or what was making the force not work in the way to which she was accustomed. She was the Countess Trinay Dur of the most noble (or at least the most rich) house on all of Iridonia and this situation would not stand. As quickly as she dared, Trin stoked the flames of her own wrath ever higher, riding the line between using her anger to fuel her own reserves and losing control. Silently she seethed, her deep blue eyes gaining an almost purple tint from the red that rose slowly in them. It was time for another gamble. Either her tightly held rage might help her to regain energy and mastery over the force, or it might break out of her control and burn them all out. Or perhaps something entirely different, who knew what would happen. Tag: darthkain7 , @queenjunko, volacius Tagset: Sinister Sith |
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Post by volacius on Apr 28, 2019 18:00:53 GMT -5
IC Volacius Location- path of raging Terentatek Volacius’ attack had seemed to work at first glance. Had the situation not been so immediately dire, the Mirialan might have even allowed a smirk to cross his face. There was no time for such novelties however, as the beast quickly recovered from his electrical volley and lashed out at the acolyte with a full-blown charge. It’s horns were enormous, and any one of them would easily leave a gaping hole in his torso with a radius larger than several higher-yield proton warheads. This was not a fate Volacius intended to accept. Wanting to keep as much distance between himself and the Terentatek as possible, Volacius leaped backward whilst simultaneously unleashing multiple blasts of Force energy toward the creature in hopes of slowing it down at the very least. As cunning as the Mirialan had been to survive all he had endured thus far in his life, Volacius was completely unsure how to approach the situation. He knew his Lightning, as strong as it could be, would not be enough to inflict more than fleshwounds; Trill had clearly suffered some sort of impairment from her foray with the beast, leaving close-quarters engagement to risky to attempt; and Malos, the strongest of them and perhaps their best hope of securing victory, lay flat on the floor completely incapacitated. That didn’t leave many options left. But it was then that he noticed the fury emanating from Trinaya. Volacius had vaguely sensed the energy drain from her body, and drain it had indeed. Volacius hadn’t seen anyone grow so tired after so few menial tasks since he was a boy. He’d just about written her off until the anger building inside of her caught part of his attention. The Mirialan knew firsthand how strong an amplifier anger could be for a Force-user. Anger had fueled him as a refugee from Krayt’s Empire, it had allowed him to overpower the Sith that had hunted him on Vjun, and it had lead to his enrollment at the prestigious academy of the Eternal Sith Empire. An idea formulated in his mind as he flew through the air, and seeing as it was all he had, he certainly hoped it would work. Reaching out to Trinaya, Volacius mentally inserted a message into her mind: I will keep it occupied, but do whatever you’re going to do quickly! Next, Volacius turned his full attention to the beast. Alright, he thought to himself, if you want a meal, you’re going to have to catch it! The Mirialan diverted the majority of his energy toward blasting himself backward, and away from the beast, while saving a small reserve for further Lightning strikes to further antagonize the beast and keep its attention on him. Volacius didn’t like playing bait, but if it meant his continued survival, he would play the part and play it well. darthkain7 , @lordjania , cliojayne |
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Volshe
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Post by Volshe on Apr 28, 2019 18:35:16 GMT -5
IC: Xenot the Nightbringer
Abandoned Starship, Syned
Xenot was sleeping. His chest rose and fell, another night of restless sleep followed by another day of endless torment. The endless imprisonment he could not escape.
At this point, it was no longer torment, but boredom. Utter boredom. Boredom so deep it could not - would not - be controlled by anything he could find aboard the ship that made his prison. So he maintained his routine with brief break for occasional insanity, and then returned to his cot to slumber. Day after day. Night after night.
Tonight was different.
The clouds drifting lazily over starlit skies were not significant, for Syned had many clouds. The shortened days and long nights were not significant, it was that season. Not even the brief shudder of glacier transport speeding by was worth note.
But Xenot was awoken tonight. By a crash, and a screech. A humanoid screech. A...feminine humanoid screech.
He shot up, tugging on some sort of clothing and bounding into the longest corridor. Neck snapping both ways, he attempted to pinpoint the noise’s source from the fresh memory. There was a concern in his mind that he had imagined it. The concern grew stronger as the dimly lit hall revealed no intruder, or even any issue. “Show yourself!” He demanded, under heavily accented basic, repeating the order in Sith. “S'dies tû'saen!”
Nobody so much as moved from behind the stacked crates and shadowed alcoves. But now that his senses awoke, he could feel whatever it was. An oddly warm presence. His senses were not so effectively attuned that he could pinpoint the intruder’s location. All he knew is that somewhere in the ship, there was someone. He hurried back to his room with purposeful steps, grasping a makeshift sword kept by the head of his cot. He re-emerged into the corridor.
“You are felt!” His voice boomed through the hall, ricocheting into the anterooms. He began to move, attempting to find himself closer to the presence. It was difficult in the labyrinthine ship. At least he knew it was nearby, given he had heard the scream over the howling winds and deep creaking of the disintegrating hull. A chill caught his skin.
An excellent idea followed the shiver that crawled up his spine. Somehow the being had entered. He would feel the cold air. He would be able to tell by the gusts of wind. And if that urge to shiver was not hint enough, the library doors ahead were slightly ajar. A bluster seeped through them. Snowflakes and the burning atmosphere his lungs could only barely tolerate. It was lessened by whatever sorcery kept him alive and on board, but it was not
“HUMANOID!”
He turned the corner, a woman with deep brown, wiry curls sat in grey, battered, armour. Her helmet sat beside her on the floor. Another, a man, sat beside her. His armour still was on, respirator making small mechanical puffs into the air.
“Humanoids!” His hands clutched his sword, ready to attack. But neither of them moved. The woman had her eyes closed. They seemed no threat, and so he lowered his weapon. But they also did not answer him.
“Why are you here!” He questioned, taking a step forward. “How did you get inside!”
They glanced at each other. Xenot narrowed his eyes.
“We were sent for you,” the woman replied, holding up her hands to reveal the lack of weaponry. She inhaled through pursed lips. “I can explain more when we’re in a sealed environment. We can’t breathe this.”
Xenot did not trust them. That was to be expected, though. The humanoids had armour he had never seen. He had been trapped in a ship from thousands of years ago, according to the calendar. There was the possibility is was broken, but that seemed unlikely. He turned to the doorway, where he had etched every standard day. Thousands upon thousands of etches since he’d awoken. He suspected there were thousands more before that.
“Follow me, then,” he said. Gruffly, but more judgmentally. He did not understand yet how they would have even known of his existence. A emerald hand opened the door via a keypad, air whistling out towards the fissure in the hull. “Hurry humanoids, or you will let the atmosphere out.”
He ducked inside, hearing the clambering of the pair trying to follow him. Their boots clanged against the flooring. They looked exhausted as they approached. He could tell they were not warriors like he was, nor tacticians of any sort, and that further lowered his guard.
The door shut. The scream of warm air flooding into the arctic plateaus stopped.
“Now you tell me,” Xenot said. He sheathed his sword into his belt, his scabbard left somewhere in his room after the chaos.
The brunette woman looked to the helmeted one, tapping him on the shoulder. He removed his helmet - he was not very humanoid at all, but Kaleesh. Xenot should have expected such. His gait and lack of speech were telltale signs, as much as the mask of bone that looked back at him.
The woman began. “I’m Ria, this is Tulan. We’re scientists. Sort of.”
“You found this ship. You did not know I was here,” Xenot said, surmising what she had meant rather quickly. But she shook her head.
“We knew you were here.”
Xenot looked puzzled. His head tilted. Thousands upon thousands of days, and not a single soul had located the ship that was his prison. And now, suddenly, scientists knew who he was. Where he had been. Countless days of torture, ended with two simple people. He had not even been able to send messages, nor access the HoloNet. He had been entirely trapped. What they said made no sense.
“How?”
“Your master was a Sith, yes? By many names.”
“Yes,” Xenot said, frowning - though his expressions were restrained by his thick, green skin. “She was many Sith.”
“She trapped you here as a safeguard.”
“A...safe-gu-arard?” He tripped over the word, his heavy accent not able to pronounce it easily.
“A protection for the future.”
“She told me this.”
“You were supposed to be in stasis when we arrived.”
“I awoke thousands of days ago.”
He shook his head. Nothing they were saying was of any importance to him. He knew who had trapped him, but not why he awoke, nor why he was unable to leave even many years after he had awoken. He also did not know how they found him.
“A failure of ship systems,” Tulan remarked, glancing up to the state of the ship. “The plan was not entirely foolproof.”
Ria nodded, as if she had already known that much. She hadn’t, but that was irrelevant.
“How did you find me?” Xenot insisted, once again.
“A holocron of your master, left on Serenno. She detailed the plan, even the coordinates. We followed it.”
“How did you find it?”
She thought for a moment. Her arms folded. He was millennia old, even if he did not realise it. She could not explain everything in layman’s terms when he likely did not even know the true date.
“We are part of an Empire that has fallen apart. We were exiled, like you, and while searching for our Empress we discovered it.”
“Where is she?”
“We do not know.”
“Why do you need me?”
“For help.”
“Help? With what?”
“To conquer our enemies,” Ria said, growing frustrated with herself. She could not even explain to him who their enemies were. What had happened. That would take time.
“Enemies of the Sith Empire?” Xenot queried, looking to them both. “That is who I serve.”
“Sort of,” Ria said. She tapped a finger to her deep caramel chin. “Our Empire had Jedi among the Sith. We were not only a Sith Empire.”
Xenot looked positively befuddled. In disbelief, at best. “That is unwise.”
Ria laughed, “It worked well, until the other Jedi decided that it was unwise. They created a rebellion. The other factions attacked us and we had to flee.”
“Now you want help.”
“Yes, you are very wise, we have read. And strong.”
“I am not strong anymore. I have been away from battle for too long.”
“You have potential,” Tulan added, nodding deeply, a mark of respect to the old Hamadryas.
“What do I do?”
“We will free you, with this.” Ria pulled out an amulet, holding it out to him. “It will remove the restraints. Your master crafted it.”
He took it, turning it over in his hands. It had her mark upon the stone, dotted with gold and shimmering corusca. In his fingers, he could feel her signature. He could feel his former power. They did not mislead him.
“You are right.”
He paused after putting it around his neck. “I will need some things.”
“Go ahead,” Ria motioned. “We have a shuttle prepared just beyond the ridge. Though it is a bit of a walk.”
Her and Tulan shared an exhausted glance, before she piped up again. “We might need to repurify our air tanks.”
Xenot did not particularly care. He was moments away from tasting freedom, and minutes away from leaving the barren glaciers of Syned. All he needed were his studies and his tools.
“Let’s go,” Ria said, patting Tulan again and replacing her helmet - just in case the atmosphere shifted further into the ship. “We’ll meet you back here soon.”
TAG: nobody, just me having fun
SHORT STORY: Xenot the Nightbringer
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Post by darthferos on Apr 28, 2019 19:34:21 GMT -5
IC: Darth Feros Caught in the Middle Corbos Feros was flying through the air. He had the sword swung up. And then the thing reeled, looked at him. And it opened its mouth. Slithering tentacles, each with a small beak on the end squirmed out and lashed at him. They were trying to grab him and pull him in. Old Ones only knew what those things would do to him if they grabbed him. He brought the sword down and swung at them, hoping to slice them all off at the beaks, hopefully wounding the beast again. Feros could feel Corvar being effected by the pain the sword should have been causing him, but that they now shared. He could feel Reaper was still alive as well. That was good. Brooke was still catatonic, blasted by the monster's psychic attack. Feros felt all these things in an instant, surveying his situation at the same time. The beast had its maw gaping. Feros swore he could see into the thing's guts. Feros had an idea. It was probably a foolish idea, but it was an idea. He had seen it done in old books and legends. The thing was massive. Feros decided he'd modify the plan. He held the sword in an upward grip as he rolled in mid air, feet down away from the monster's throat, and sent himself I to a mad spin, the sword down towards the beast's tail. He sent a thought through the Force Meld to Corvar to help him out. "Whatever you did, do it again. Hurt it like that. Make it scream. I need its mouth wide open." Feros took a deep breath and filled himself with the Dark Side. If he was taking what may well be his last breath, he was going to use it well. As Feros flew through the air, spinning like a Force Sword tipped arrow, Feros let out a blood curdling scream. Darth Catalyst darthkain7 trentongordon |
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Post by trentongordon on Apr 28, 2019 19:53:09 GMT -5
IC:Reaper In a cave on Corbos Reaper having been saved by the hair on his balls was happy and filled with vigor. He watched as Feros lifted the sword and jumped at the beast doing a move only The Senate could do. How beautifully terrifying it was. But Reaper had his own mission to do. He watched as Corvar fell off the beast and so he'd try his luck and try to hurt the beast. He ran at it wielding his saber and jumped hoping to plunge his saber into the beast and to get it to stick. As he did this he yippeed as if it was a fun little game. The game was just beginning as far as he thought as well. "Come on Corvar, Feros let's take down this bantha poodoo and get back to the ship so we can collect what is owed!" He yelled as he jumped and yippeed. Tag: Darth Catalyst darthkain7 darthferos |
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Volshe
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Post by Volshe on Apr 28, 2019 21:08:22 GMT -5
IC: Lord Xindro Carath (Darth Arktys)Carath Estate, Administrative Sector, DantooineThe tapping of boots. The click of a cane. It was recognizable in the estate, moreso than the warble of the fabool outside the windows. Lord Carath was harsh, uncaring for personal struggles. He meted punishment that was not particularly fair, but inarguable. It did not cross lines. It did not raise eyebrows. It guaranteed a price paid for incompetence or insolence. Thus, the room scrambled to attention - flimsi shuffling into neat stacks, datapads clattering to tables, seats tucking in quickly. Juniors and officers alike stood. The team Lord Carath had gathered was relatively small, but it was orderly. The coordination and organization was impeccable. Deadlines were met, and missions accomplished. Replacements were issued where necessary. This...this would be a time necessary. Lord Carath stepped into the room, long coat swirling about his ankles, epaulets catching light. He surveyed the group. His face did not betray irritation, nor any iota of his thoughts. To see his face shift was a rarity, as much as an albino brith. It was nearly unheard of. They eyed him with nervousness. They did not know he was Sith, and the planet of Dantooine did not know. The Federation itself did not know. Only the advisors to his either side knew such a secret, and they had been hardened beyond the Federation’s most depraved tactics. His identity was carefully concealed. This did not stop him from acting as a Sith would. It only meant he needed to be measured and cautious, that protocol must be followed. “Garek.” The Echani woman to his right - his acolyte and advisor - summoned. The man presumed to be Garek rose from his chair. A Gran, with splotched skin of brown and gold. His head bowed with a trio of shut eyes. She raised her eyebrow. This had been made clear. He was unmoving, when he knew a summoning meant to come quietly at once. It was marketed as a tactic to avoid further disruption, but it was far darker a reasoning. “Come,” she urged, a stern hand beckoning him. “We must discuss.” Garek shook his head, muttering in a Gran dialect. “Garek, you disrupt your colleagues,” the second advisor spoke up - an ebon skinned man, clad in light armour. “I will not come,” Garek said. It was short. It was caustic. The bold ones looked up from their stations. “I did not do anything wrong.” The Echani woman stepped forward, making it three strides before Lord Carath rose a hand. His face remained unshifting as he himself walked ahead of her. “Garek...Garek…” Lord Carath placed his hand upon the Gran’s shoulder. It was as though he were greeting an old friend. There was yet an air of animosity, amidst the whirring of consoles and screeches of the plains outside. But the confrontation seemed to lighten. The others turned to their work again. He guided the Gran towards his acolytes, speaking under his breath. “We only wish to discuss with you the recent drop in exported cambylictus.” Garek shook his head. “I did not do anything, sir,” he returned, in a pitifully small voice, “The farmers did not produce this year.” The man who had flanked opened a conference room door, and Carath ushered the Gran inside. The Echani woman took a seat outside at a console beside the door. The room was so elaborate, Garek felt uncomfortable just being present. Dark wood, etched blue glass, elaborate candelabras. Plants and a reflecting pool lined the windows at the far wall. The entirety of the furnishings were likely more than he could earn selling his eyestalks and his third kidney. Lord Carath did not sit, and so neither did he. The Lord’s tone grew grave as soon as the doors shut. The room was silent as a tomb. Garek swallowed. “I know very well of your misdeeds, Garek,” Carath said. His head swung side to side, three tuts slipping from his lips. “The farmers informed me of the offer. The secret buyer.” Garek would have paled, if his skin allowed it. His mouth opened, baring his rows of eerily straight, flat teeth. “That is not what happened.” “Then explain it to me. Your signature was on the authorizations. I did not authorize it. Mehr -” he pointed to the man a few paces behind him. “He did not authorize it. Nor did Tanaire.” He referred to the Echani woman, who was listening intently whilst supervising the work in the main room. “They wanted better payment.” Garek shrugged. “They were going to riot.” Carath laughed, though his face remained as frigid. The Gran was irritating him, by now. “That is your call to make, now?” Garek had no answer. It was not his call to make. Senior staff could only shift exports to another corporation by measly ten percent. Garek’s job was simply to ensure the logistics occurred to enable export. He did not even have access to the systems. He had to create his own flimsi documents to arrange the farmer’s demands. “No, it is not,” Garek said at last. “If they riot, they lose their privileges.” Garek nodded. “If they continue to riot, we must reclaim their farms.” Garek nodded again. Nothing he was saying was new information. It had all been covered, it was all crystal clear. “You, however. You facilitated this as you gained from it.” Garek began to nod a third time - but stopped himself. He had gained from it, but that is not why he did it. Lord Carath snorted and looked down a him. “That is illegal.” Garek noticed his throat began to feel tight, and he swallowed, trying to clear the forming lump. It did not shift. He shook his head, attempting to explain. The 2,000 credits per farm he had not wanted. It was a gift. He had taken it, but only because they insisted. His family had desperately needed the credits, as well. It was not as if they went to some cantina binge, or pleasure barge vacation. His daughter had finally been able to afford her dance school - his son was over the moons that he had gotten all his trade supplies. His wife had been repaid for her hours upon hours of dedication to them all. “I-...Ap-” The words caught. “Did-” “You did. I have already had Tanaire view your credit statements. You moved, much nearer here. A new development. Congratulations.” His lungs heaved. He attempted again to apologise, to beg for a lessened prison sentence. He knew that much was imminent. But his larynx would not allow him. His body was rebelling. “Sorr-” “Your wife and young ones will be fine, once the credits are confiscated. Though they may find difficulty surviving on her salary.” Carath smiled, his facade at last breaking. But it was not a smile of kindness. It was a smile of twisted malevolence, slithering across his lips. “The farmers will be dealt with as well, not a worry.” The Gran did not realize what happened to him, only that he could not breathe, that his throat felt it was collapsing. He struggled, falling backwards into a chair. It clattered to the floor. Pain seared from his back and his oxygen-deprived lungs. He attempted to cough. He clawed at his throat. “Rest, Garek, your retirement begins now.” Carath chuckled to himself, a fist forming suddenly at his side. Garek’s throat sputtered with sickening snap, blood bubbling from his lips. He fell to the floor in a heap, his ears yet hearing for a moment more. The Lord took the opportunity, leaning in for final words. A sharp whisper, haunting the Gran’s fading consciousness. “Destination? Chaos.” He snapped upright. “Clean this up.” A rustle of fabric followed his order as he turned on his heel, his lips pressed again into a line. He exited the room without another word, boots clicking, cane tapping - fading away just as the Gran’s light in the Force did. Mehr got to work. TAG: nobody, but Darth Voidwalker and darthvoxyn and @lordjania as he will appear in the futureTAGSET: Dantooine
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Post by darthvoxyn on Apr 28, 2019 23:23:08 GMT -5
IC: Voxyn Dread Fortress, Oricon “ Did you see? The Anzat is possessed. A malevolent spirit has taken his mind. Do you not sense it?” Arancia said, turning his attention to them from Tacites unconscious body. Looking down at the unconscious Tacite, Voxyn couldn’t sense anything foreign taking hold of the Anzat though that could be because of the heavy aura being projected by the phobis device. “So what do we do with him if he is possessed, my Lords?” he asked the both of them. TAG: Darth Catalyst Darth Voidwalker taciteoccultus |
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Post by darthvoxyn on Apr 28, 2019 23:25:04 GMT -5
IC: Crewman Erik Corr Location: Hyperspace Everyone else had gone from the cockpit, leaving Erik alone with the controls and his thoughts. “Well I guess I’ll just sit here and enjoy the peace and quiet.” Erik said to himself as he leaned back in his seat and kept an eye on the ships computers. After a while the half naked sith returned to the cockpit. This time the man had a bottle of alcohol in his hand and looked like he had already drank a good amount of it judging by the way he was leaning against the wall while he put his lightsaber on his hip and the way he stumbled away when Lady Viscretus called asking if everyone was ready for some meeting she had mentioned before she left the cockpit. Erik personally didn’t care for alcohol, he would rather have a nice cup of hot chocolate with little marshmallows in it but that was just him. “You know what. I think I will get some hot chocolate.” He said as he slapped him hands to his knees, got up from the pilots seat, and made his way to the galley. Whistling a tune as he made his way to the galley he was just about to enter the room Viscretus was having her meeting when the other Sith Lady yelled in his direction to take the ship out of hyperspace and turn it around and then Lady Viscretus yelled for him not to. His whistling changed from a happy upbeat tune to a slow tune full of melancholy as he slowly backed away from the screaming. Backing into the cockpit he closed the door so he would hear less of the screaming then sat back down in the pilot's seat. “Yeah the hot chocolate can wait till after they calm down cause I sure as hell am not going through that fight for a cup.” He said as he got comfortable. He would wait until they stopped fighting to find out if he needed to take the ship out of hyperspace, for now he was going to stay in this cockpit and not do anything. TAG: Darth Dreadwar Volshe Darth Voidwalker @lordjania |
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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Apr 29, 2019 8:31:34 GMT -5
IC: Srethros Dread Fortress, Oricon “So what do we do with him if he is possessed, my Lords?” The acolyte’s question was a fair question, however it’s was a fair question without a definitive answer. Even in their opposing views, perhaps the Gand And Srethros could come to some sort of conclusion as to what to do. What ever they were going to do, they had to do it quickly. Arancia was right in his analysis of the Anzat. There was clearly another being wrapped around his mind. No matter who one the battle of will in the apprentice’s mind, a decision had to be made. “Possession isn’t my area of knowledge. Perhaps the Gand has a better answer for you acolyte. We can’t just wait until he wakes up to see who it is that decided to take a joy ride in my Monster’s body. If it was up to me I’d say we kill him now. The decision is yours Arancia, how do you wish to proceed?” The question left a dirty taste in Srethros’ mouth, he hated to have to admit any sort of weakness. TAG: Darth Catalyst taciteoccultus darthvoxyn |
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248 
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Apr 29, 2019 15:15:23 GMT -5
IC Darth Arancia Dread Fortress, Oricon “So what do we do with him if he is possessed, my Lords?” The question Voxyn presented was one that Arancia had not prepared himself to face. He knew that possession by Force spirit was not an easily solved matter, and those who survived possession did so mostly through sheer willpower, something that Arancia doubted Tacite possessed in large quantities. Srethros seemed to share his unease at the subject, as his response was a definite one that left little room for misinterpretation. “Possession isn’t my area of knowledge. Perhaps the Gand has a better answer for you acolyte. We can’t just wait until he wakes up to see who it is that decided to take a joy ride in my Monster’s body. If it was up to me I’d say we kill him now. The decision is yours Arancia, how do you wish to proceed?” Arancia drew a deep breath from the methane tanks that fed his headpiece. “There is little we can do for Tacite at present,” his modulated voice reverberated through the chamber, echoing far more than normal. “The banishment of dark side spirits is in itself a power that requires belief in the light. Perhaps with the right application of Alchemy, the effects can be replicated. If we wish to save him, he must be restrained and brought back to Korriban, where he shall endure torturous experiments to rid his body of that which is not his.” Arancia looked at Srethros. “He may not survive such a process.” The Gand brought a hand up, using the Force to grip Tacite by the throat and hoist the unconscious Anzat into the air. “In any case, he is yours to do with as you wish, Lord Srethros.” TAG: taciteoccultus, darthvoxyn, Darth Voidwalker,
IC the LeviathanAbandoned mines, CorbosMultiple wriggling tentacles fell to the ground in limp splatters as Feros lopped them off from around the beast’s maw. The Leviathan let out a roar of pain and threw its head back as the darksiders flew like trapeze artists over its head. Feros planted the sword deep into the Leviathan’s tail and the bellowing screech echoed louder through the caverns and reverberated in the minds of the men assaulting it. Then Feros was in the air again. As the multiple eyes of the monster tracked the Hapan, Reaper landed on its back near one of the blisters and punctured the thick flesh with his saber. The Leviathan reared back and roared again, expelling a geyser of flame from its mouth in rage that splashed against the roof of the cave. It jerked to one side very suddenly as Corvar grappled onto it with the Force, enough to cause the creature to stumble, but more importantly accelerating Corvar back towards it and away from the stone floor. Feros had a clear sight of its open jaw as he soared above the creature, which was currently belching a torrent of fire. TAG: trentongordon, darthferos, darthkain7
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Post by darthkain7 on Apr 29, 2019 19:24:29 GMT -5
IC: The Terentatek Sinister Sith Temple, Korriban It was a rigorous process, trying to filter out the poison in her own bloodstream. Trill would try nonetheless, for if she did nothing, she would surely be useless in this conflict. Even worse, she would die. Creating bubbles in her bloodstream to push out the poison via miniature Force repulses was a surgical operation. One false slip and she could burst a blood vessel, or even worse, an artery. This fact, along with the pain she suffered, slowed the process. She had to do this carefully, lest she kill herself while attempting to save her life. This allowed her filter out a small amount of the poison, pushing it out of her wounds. However, there was still plenty in her system. Left unchecked, she would die, but at least now she could think more clearly. The beast had narrowly missed its prey, the Mirialan leaping backward and unleashing blasts of kinetic energy at the Terentatek. The pushes did little more than knock the beast's gargantuan head backward, but that was enough to slow its approach. Enraged, the creature planned to swing its massive claws for Volacius, hoping to let loose some of its poison into his bloodstream as well. However, something caught its attention. Rage, seething and powerful, coming from the Zabrak female that it had largely ignored. Her anger was amplifying her power, and in turn, uplifting her placement on the monster's To-Eat list. And at least she hadn't just leaped even further away like the Mirialan had. Attacking the much closer and appetizing target, the Terentatek aimed to grasp the Zabrak in its right hand, hoping to immobilize her before ripping her horned head off with its razor-sharp teeth. TAGS: @lordjania , cliojayne , volacius TAGSET: Sinister Sith ___________________________________ IC: Zul'tar The Tomb of Darth Cognus, Korriban “Sa,” the T’landa Til spoke, its voice as deep as the seas of Manaan. However, as it turned to those assigned to travel with him, he found the human and Twi'lek to possess no words, instead blank stares into nothingness. These were rather odd beings… Regardless, the trio would begin to travel down the west hallway, the silent duo following Mitth with their usual amount of chattiness. This hallway was shorter than the last, and possessed no display cases at all. In fact, the sheer emptiness of this hall, along with the darkness that enveloped them, would be nerve-wracking for even the most seasoned adventurers. They would soon come to another room at the end of the hall. To their right was an entrance to another room, as was to their left, both at the ends of short, narrow halls. However, that would likely not be what was drawing their attention. Standing along the walls of the room were five stone statues, each seemingly frozen in battle poses at equal distances apart. They held stone greatswords, fearsome in their size. More art, perhaps? “As you say, it will be done,” the female voice inside Jekyll spoke as the others walked westward. “I would rather not meet the Emperor's wrath.”“Neither would I,” Zul'tar said with a nod. He turned to the shapeshifter, who had also been silent for this trip. Odd. Nodding to the pair of them, Zul'tar walked eastward, the light of his torch guiding the beings behind him. It did not take long to reach a three-way intersection in the tomb, the walls largely bare save for some cracks due to age. Ahead was a dead end, though Zul'tar felt a peculiar sense of dread from that direction. Instinctively, he turned left, towards a grand door that appeared shut. It was decorated just as elegantly as the front entrance, though it told different stories that Zul'tar did not bother reading. To the right was a short path to another door, less grand than the other. Zul'tar turned to Jekyll and Renn, his eyes blazing green in the light of the torch he carried. “So, which direction do you two want to go?”TAGS: Mitthfisto , taciteoccultus , darthbernael , DarthVizuul TAGSET: Tomb of Cognus ___________________________________ IC: Darth Kain Abandoned Mines of Corbos Corvar had more effect than he realized, actually pulling the beast towards him enough to land on its back once more. However, the beast's back was not quite so easy to land on now that its posture was straightened. With nothing reliable to grab onto, now that the opened blister was out of arm's reach, Corvar aimed his blade forward, hoping to impale the nearest blister and slide downward, catching even more blisters along the way. Yet as he flew through the air, the Leviathan screeched once more, and while Corvar's aim was not affected, his mind certainly was. The screams of the beast's victims plagued his mind each time it roared, further and further wearing away at Corvar's psyche. The pain was nearly unbearable, and for the slightest moment, he contemplated turning his own lightsaber on himself, ending the pain this creature was causing. “SHUT UP!” he shouted back as he flew towards the beast, ready to cause it just as much pain as it was causing him. TAGS: Darth Catalyst , trentongordon , darthferos TAGSET: Corbos |
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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Apr 29, 2019 21:39:45 GMT -5
COMBO WITH Volshe and Sedriss Nathemus the ConquerorIC: Nox Talus, Commodore Frazan, and Azarius Qazoi Well that clearly didn’t go as planned. You have any clever ideas Sulat?Nox slowly raised his hands in a surrendering motion. He didn’t wish to make any sudden movements as to spook the Commodore and take any chances of him becoming trigger happy. Granted Nox was a Jedi, former or not. He was still a Jedi and his reaction speed was probably quicker than the Commodore’s, Nox didn’t care to test the theory either way. After the events of the past few hours, he had exhausted a good amount of energy. Both physical and mental. Surrender seemed to clearly be the best course of action. He was here to atone for his sins and tragedies, not cause more death. Still, someone blocking his way was not a senseless killing, just a possible alarm raising situation. Nonetheless it seemed that he was on his own here, Sulat Xon had been quiet for some time now. Since right around the time Nox spoke the name and invoked the power of Typhojem. “Woah, easy there big fella. I’m not resisting at all. If Commander Tano has ordered me to stay away for this important meeting, than I will do as she commands. There’s no reason to be hostile here. Look I’m putting my hands up and I surrender. I’ll go with you willingly. I don’t wish to see anymore death come to anyone. It’s actually the reason I ended up on...never mind, you obviously don’t care. Where are you taking me? I won’t resist.” I don’t know why I feel so defeated. I did what I came to do. I saved Alisha’s life. It’s to be expected that she’d turn me away. Oh well, I know the Force will provide a solution for me, and if it doesn’t, perhaps Typhojem will!“Alright.” The commodore didn’t move. He said the word slowly, watching every microexpression Nox might’ve given. Truthfully, it was fear that gave his abundance of caution. He tried not to stammer as he replied. There had been no order to take him anywhere. In fact, he usually wasn’t acting as a sec force in any capacity. He was a specialist in dejarik at best. Tactical strategy, regulating naval weapon supply. Not combat. Not law enforcement. So he lied. Hopefully convincingly, but his hand never wavered from the holdout just in case. He didn’t know what the guy was capable of. Obviously something, given Lady Tano had been so resistant and hostile. “They have a room for you set up.” Which way even were the prisoner holding cells? He ran through orientation. There were a few, but he figured the main brig would be the best bet...they had to have a singular cell for the guy. The ship was 50 kriffing kilometres long! (And that very thought had him exhausted, before he even took a step!) He pointed the way, to the right, with his free hand. His blaster was drawn now. “You first.” “As you command.” The response wasn’t absolutely necessary, and Nox knew that. Obviously he had said he would surrender. Nonetheless Nox figured that it would be worth being polite. No reason to cause suspicion or raise alarms. Not yet anyway. Keeping his hands in plain sight for the Commodore, Nox stepped forward and past the officer. Stepping just out into the hallway from the medbay, Nox turned his head over his shoulder to ask the Commodore “would you like to me bind me and place me under arrest or can I walk freely to the brig since you’re escorting me?” Well it seems like I’m truly on my own here. Why isn’t Sulat replying to me? Is there no one that trusts me now? Wait, the Zabrak that befriended me before. What did he call himself? He called me the same word. What was it? It was similar to Jedi. Jedi, Jedi. Jedi....Je’daii! That was it! Now can I reach out to him?“Commodore, if you wish to bind my hands, I understand. There’s no hard feelings at all. I know many of your comrades see me as some sort of evil Je’daii. But you will have no problems from me, you have my word.” Turning his head away from the Commodore, awaiting him to make a decision, Nox tried to send a message through the Force to the Zabrak that he had come in contact with in the hangar. I know that you owe me nothing, and I might be a traitor, but if your offer still stands I would like to learn more about being a Je’daii. I’m being transferred from the medbay to the brig if you decide to seek me out.The commodore didn’t initially respond. The fact his prisoner kept talking made him nervous. Perhaps he should take the offer to bind him. They had a saying, back in the Aravis Sec Force - the ones who talked the loudest, fought the hardest. And this strange man was edging on loud. “Let’s just get you going,” he replied, as curtly and gruffly as he could manage. The halls were at least teeming with other officers and personnel, so there would be a far less chance of the man fleeing or succeeding in something funny. “It’s not a short walk, but it’s not 50 klicks, either.” And so, he gave a gentle nudge to Nox, urging him forward. The last anyone had heard from Azarius Qazoi was when he pleaded for his friend Nox Talus to be thrown in the brig, but most assuredly kept alive. From what he could tell, the Empress and he were locked in a battle of the minds for a while, but it had eventually come to an end and Talus was indeed placed in the brig. Azarius contiuned to explore around the ship now that the technobeasts had been taken care of. He took his leave of the Empress and the rest of the party, to go back to his personal quarters for a time of rest and meditation. For in a time of peril, the best thing a true Je’daii could do is to center himself. When he entered his quarters, he telekinetically shut the door behind him, and sat on the floor with his legs crossed. His two lightsabers came forth from his belt and began to disassemble, as well as the Holocron of Rajivari that was mounted on his desk. The pieces of each slowly and quietly began to swirl around him, and in his mind’s eye, he spoke the words of his Code, I am the revealing fire of the Light. I am the mystery of the Darkness. Immortal in the Force. Repeating these words over and over again for about an hour, he then stood back up to reassemble the pieces of his equipment, placing the holocron again on its mount, and hooking both sabers to his belt. Upon completion of his meditation, he arose and departed from his quarters, back towards the brig, hoping to find his brother in arms that had been wrought with a broken mind and the most negative luck Qazoi had ever seen in his years. TAG: Darth Dreadwar Volshe Padawan4687 Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror |
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Post by taciteoccultus on Apr 29, 2019 22:28:52 GMT -5
IC: Tacite OccultusDread Fortress, Oricon Tacite's eyes shoot open his normal shade of green, and full of terror, as he feels the pressure on his throat. He then says in a shuddery croak. " Please. Get me away from that thing." Eyes darting everywhere looking for escape, his hands reach up to his throat as he attempts to free himself to no avail from whatever is holding him there, so that he can escape. TAG: Darth Voidwalker, darthvoxyn, Darth Catalyst, |
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Apr 30, 2019 9:33:46 GMT -5
IC Darth Catalyst Raider Class Corvette, Hangar 4, Korriban
No sooner had Catalyst extended his greeting to Shaire, another acolyte made his presence known in their vicinity. The Devaronian he had summoned student placed himself near Xirr and Catalyst and bowed respectfully. "I was requested to be here, what would you like me to do?" The boy seemed eager to please. Catalyst could practically see him vibrating with excitement.
“Samael, welcome,” Catalyst faked sternly. “You were summoned by myself to accompany Lord Xirr and I on a special mission to Yavin IV. We are infiltrating a Jedi temple in search of specific information at the request of Emperor Dreadwar. I chose you because of your past involvement with the Order. Your knowledge makes you an ideal candidate for stealth and espionage.” Catalyst clapped his hand on the young man’s shoulder, which felt unusually warm. “And mark my words,” he uttered menacingly, “if you fail us, I will not hesitate to leave your mutilated remains in an unmarked grave within the shattered husk of the Death Star.”
Catalyst pulled his hand, which was now mildly sweaty, from Samael’s shoulder and resumed his cheerful demeanor. “Now then! I believe everyone is here; let’s be off! I’m sure Lady Apollyon, with her penchant for punctuality, has already taken a shuttle and will be doing reconnaissance. Everyone on board, pick a room! I’ll give the all clear and we’ll be on our way!” He practically skipped up the boarding ramp and into the bridge of the Raider. Once he was sure that everyone had followed him, and that his starfighter was secured, he pressed several buttons on the command console and began relaying orders to the small crew to begin the launch sequence. The Corvette’s engines roared to life and it slowly picked itself up off the hangar floor. Within minutes, the team was exiting Korriban’s dusty atmosphere. The hyperdrive began its familiar whine as the ship accelerated. The familiar blur of stars stretching into lances of light greeted all who looked out of their viewports. They made the jump to hyperspace.
As the nebulous blue swirl encompassed the ship, Catalyst pulled forth a comm from the command center and his voice was heard all across the Corvette. "Attention passengers, we have now reached our cruising speed. Feel free to roam about the cabins, grab a snack, take a nap, what have you. We will be reaching Yavin IV in a matter of hours barring something going catastrophically wrong. Drinks will be served in the common area and full mission briefing shall begin in the primary conference room in five minutes." He put the comm back in its holster and stood up from his seat. Confidant that the ship was smoothly gliding like a knife through water he sauntered to the conference room, stopping for a refreshment on the way. He seated himself at the long table and waited for his fellows to join him.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar,dice,taciteoccultus,gorzan,Padawan4687
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Post by taciteoccultus on Apr 30, 2019 18:24:41 GMT -5
IC: Samael Raider Class Corvette, Hangar 4, Korriban As Samael entered the ship he went to an empty room and began to meditate. His mind continued to flicker like a recently lit fire. He was seeing the future, or possibly the past. He didn't care as he wasn't paying much attention to any of it just the warmth that consistently enveloped him as he tried to calm himself. Bad things tended to happen when he got too excited. When he opened his eyes the shoulder of his robes had just caught on fire, he quickly patted the fire out. The comms go off as Lord Catalyst speaks. "Attention passengers, we have now reached our cruising speed. Feel free to roam about the cabins, grab a snack, take a nap, what have you. We will be reaching Yavin IV in a matter of hours barring something going catastrophically wrong. Drinks will be served in the common area and full mission briefing shall begin in the primary conference room in five minutes." Samael goes directly to the conference room and bows to Lord Catalyst in respect before taking a seat. TAG: Darth Catalyst, dice, gorzan, Padawan4687,@darthdreadwar |
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dice
Citizen
Posts: 84
Likes: 65
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Post by dice on Apr 30, 2019 20:17:19 GMT -5
IC: Darth XirrEn route to Yavin IV, Raider Class Corvette, Deep Space Xirr promptly boarded the corvette that awaited the motley crew after a few, slightly less menacing than those of his comrade, words of greeting to the newcomer, Samael. Where was lady Appolyon? the large man found himself wondering as he made his way to his quarters, mulling over Lord Catalysts words in the hangar. He had seen the hand leave the briefing with Lady Viscretus, but had not since laid eyes on the caramel skinned woman, or her companion for that matter. Though the whereabouts of Lady Appolyon mattered naught to Lord Xirr, if he was to be frank with himself. Xirr felt the distinctive stall and jolt that signified the ship making the jump to hyperspace, and then he heard the also distinctive voice of his friend coming through the speaker above his head "Attention passengers, we have now reached our cruising speed. Feel free to roam about the cabins, grab a snack, take a nap, what have you. We will be reaching Yavin IV in a matter of hours barring something going catastrophically wrong. Drinks will be served in the common area and full mission briefing shall begin in the primary conference room in five minutes." Xirr chuckled. Was Lord Catalyst a fearsome Sith lord or a flight attendant? Regardless of his friends chosen profession, Xirr stood from the seat he had taken to relax in during the brief lull of action, straightened his cape and adjusted the collar, slid his plated gauntlets over his battle scarred hands, and stepped into the hallway bound for the conference room. He stopped on his way in the common area to acquire a drink, and holding his goblet between the middle and ring fingers on his right hand, stepped with an air of confidence into the conference room where he was greeted by Lord Catalyst and Samael, who had made it there before he had. "I see the newcomer and our...fearless captain, are punctual. " He began with a chuckle as he took his seat on the opposing end of the long table from Lord Catalyst. "Robyn, I imagine, will be shortly behind myself. I assume Neoplix and his plaything will be along within the hour."
TAG: Darth Catalyst ,Padawan4687 ,gorzan ,@tacititeoccultus
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Post by taciteoccultus on Apr 30, 2019 22:18:56 GMT -5
IC: Samael En route to Yavin IV, Raider Class Corvette, Deep Space As Lord Xirr entered he had made notice of Samael immediately. Samael beamed a bright and wide smile. Even after being out of the Jedi Order for three years he still felt odd about being treated as an individual, though it still made him feel happy. He rose from his seat and bowed immediately to the Lord, still smiling. "Just happy to be here sir." As Lord Xirr sits, Samael follows his lead and does so again as well. As they waited for the others, Samael began to wonder if these people were going to be the friends he longed for? So far he only had one friend, that never ignored him, and always came at his call. Fire. It was always so beautiful. Why did everyone always hate it when he tried to introduce them to his friend? TAG: Darth Catalyst, dice,@darthdreadwar, gorzan, Padawan4687 |
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Post by trentongordon on May 1, 2019 14:07:21 GMT -5
IC: Reaper Corbos, Riding a Leviathan Reaper having landed on the beast and bursting another one of its bubbles laughed only to be met with disgusting gases. "It tastes like absolute shit!" He grimaced in disgust before he got an idea. He pulled himself up by the saber and then stuck his hand into the beasts now popped blister to be met with a feeling that he could not explain. It was weird but unique. Like sticking his hand into a puddle of mud but also different still. He closed his eyes and sent out force lightning hoping to damage the beast further. The screams of the beast echoing in his head only helping him. The sounds of death hurting and pounding at his resolve but it also felt welcoming. He was the man who was hurting this gargantuan beast and he was enjoying it. Tag: darthferos Darth Catalyst darthkain7 |
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2019 5:30:53 GMT -5
IC: Trill
Location: Sinister Sith Temple; Korriban ‘Shit this isn’t working like I thought it would!’ She raged internally as she was able to get some of the poison out but nowhere near enough to get her out of the danger zone. Looking around as her head felt slightly clearer and her eyes more focused than a few moments ago, she needed something to help her counteract the poison inside her. Eyes frantically searching for whatever she could possibly get her hands on, she began asking herself the questions she needed to. ‘What can counteract poison? What do you use to even do that? Well you have to flush the wound… Wait! That’s it! Flush it! But I need water… where can I find water here? Water, water, water, Water!’ Her thoughts had paid off for her as she spotted the water bottle near Trinaya that she had been drinking from earlier. Remembering the complexity of the canister, Trill had little doubts that it wasn’t filtered. This was exactly what she needed! Using the force to pull the water over to herself she knew she didn’t need to waste it by dumping it all on her clothes. Placing the bottle down beside her before unzipping her top and taking it off to reveal nothing but a sports bra underneath, Trill was ready to begin to try and save her life once more. Opening the canister, she began to pour the water using a slow stream to help guide it to where she needed to be on her cut wounds. As the water made contact with the infected wounds, Trill nearly wanted to scream out due to the pain she felt but she stifled her tongue. Though she wouldn’t know for a few moments, she figured that the clean water would have some effect even if it was small. In the meanwhile, she could feel the force radiating from the Zabrak and she was shocked at how strong she felt at the moment. Was this truly what a genetically created species could do if left to their devices? No wonder the old Master’s would want to have people like this under watch and in chains. While the Rakata were natural users of the Dark Side and technologically blessed, they were no extraordinary or special from any other race that could use the force. It’s just they had appeared so by enslaving the galaxy and not letting the other races develop their force powers unless it was to help the Empire. “Sek’nos and Xesh were right… Let people grow and watch what they can do.” She mumbled amongst herself before looking down to check on her wound to see if any noticeable changes had occurred since she poured the water on her wound. Tag: darthkain7, volacius, cliojayne |
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Post by cliojayne on May 3, 2019 13:36:48 GMT -5
IC: Trin Location- Sinister Sith Temple, Korriban The thought sent quickly her way from Volacius was surprising, but Trin refused to allow it to ruin her concentration. Instead, she added it to her litany of anger. So *now* the tall yellow idiot wanted to help, did he? Help would be recognizing that she needed more anger, not rushing her! It was becoming easier to both immerse herself in the force as well as the more ridiculous side of her anger. She recognized this and reminded herself to be cautious of falling too deeply and losing control. Trin gritted her teeth, knowing she only had seconds to make a decision. Malos was still somewhere behind the Zabrak woman, so she couldn’t move backwards too much without leaving the insane lord to die at the claws of the beast if he wasn’t dead already. Trill was still laying there, a low pulse of force energy all that let Trin know she was still alive. If they managed to get out of this alive the mysterious woman might need more than a little recovery time. Her already pale face was slightly green from both the pain and the poison. Trin saw the beginning of the movement of the water bottle and assumed that Trill would be using it in some way to help heal herself. Silently wishing her luck, Trin stayed locked in on the Terentatek. She had an idea, but it would take a great amount of precision as well as more than a little force finesse. Trin focused her rage and sent a thought like a thrown knife at Volacius. “Wake Malos.” Then she gathered the force to herself like the folds of a cloak, refusing to allow it to fight. Her father had taught her long ago to never accept no from anything meant to serve her, whether droids, people, or anything else. The aristocratic Sith acolyte would not begin accepting disobedience now. In what would appear to be a flash to the Terentatek if it worked properly, Trin jumped up- avoiding the claws reaching for her- and over in a graceful flipping motion above where Volacius had been before he had moved back. At the same time she extended her hand, whipping her lightfoil in a tightly whirling circle to loop around the back of the horned beasts head, hoping to score its neck with the bright blade. Barring that, a small distraction might be nice at the very least. Tag: darthkain7 , @queenjunko, volacius Tagset: Sinister Sith |
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Post by Mitthfisto on May 3, 2019 18:34:00 GMT -5
IC: Mitth TsuroThe Tomb of Darth Cognus, KorribanThe three of them moved out without another word. Was it caution? Was it nerves? Was it planning? He could not say for them, only what was true for him. Either way they moved down that west hallway with no incident. No sign nor trouble. This hallway was shorter than the last, and possessed no display cases at all. The sheer emptiness of this hall without a proper torches and lighting began to make him nervous. They were not Masters of the Force, not one of them was a Darth and liable to be caught unawares more-so than not.As such it was with great comfort when this short hall came to an end. The room at the end of the hall was another junction. To their right was an entrance to another room, as was to their left, both at the ends of short, narrow halls. However, that would likely not be what was drawing their attention. Mitth barely glanced either way before staring at what was drawing attention in this room. Standing along the walls of the room were five stone statues, each seemingly frozen in battle poses at equal distances apart. They held stone greatswords, fearsome in their size. More art, perhaps? Or was this one of those temple of doom traps he had read about? Laying down just inside the room, careful to avoid the center he looked about. Trying to spy the traps, the dangers. With a snort he indicated for the two silent should go right. He would wait and make sure the target didn't slip out behind them. TAG: taciteoccultus, darthbernael, Twiztnbound , darthkain7,
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Post by volacius on May 5, 2019 10:08:49 GMT -5
IC Volacius Location- Sinister Sith Temple, Korriban Trinaya’s message hit Volacius harder than he’d expected, her rage giving it an almost physical punch. He could tell that part of her anger was directed specifically at him, and though he knew his chances of survival were improved by working together with his team, that knowledge wasn’t going to immediately override his instincts. For much of his life, he had been on his own, and working with others, let alone fighting beside them, wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Of course, Trinaya didn’t know that, but Volacius still felt insulted nonetheless. In spite of his ego, the Mirialan acolyte recognized the value of the Zabrak’s plan and instantly began following her instruction. Landing from his rather enormous jump, Volacius once again gathered the Force to him, channeling it through his body and launching himself into the air once more, this time in the direction of Malos’ crumpled body and landing only a few metres from him. Closing the remaining distance on foot was a simple task, and Volacius knelt down next to the unconscious Sith Lord. He could feel that the man was definitely still alive, though the extent of his injuries was beyond the Mirialan’s field of expertise. For all he knew, Malos could be near death, but even a horribly wounded Sith Lord would still prove immeasurably useful in ensuring the survival of the group. With the urgency of his situation in mind, Volacius placed a hand on Malos’ forehead; the Mirialan focused, knowing he would likely need to send a powerful message to the madman in order to rouse him. Volacius slowed his breathing, putting all the emphasis he could muster on a simple, two-word phrase: WAKE UP! darthkain7, @lordjania, cliojayne |
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