Private A Bloody Divorce

[Darth Morrow]

The Lady of Pride Darth Morrow had been presumed dead for a number of years, her apprentices had moved on, her remaining children melded with society, and her assets were scattered and pillaged as they were left to rot. Amaranthine had long since been reclaimed by the wilds and those who tore apart and salvaged its contents. Even the Firehawk, the womans old ship was torn to pieces as scrap to repair other ships.

All of this was just another reason people assumed her gone, no so claimed Lady of Pride or Queen of Horror would allow such things to happen to her legacy. It was likely the same thoughts held by Kaine, her former husband.

Though on this day a transport landed before his estate on Jutrand, guards raising weaponry as the airlock hissed and a ramp decended to the stonework below. Clothed in black tight fit cloth accented with Beskar plating along the torso, shins, forearms and shoulders pauldrons which held up a red cloak with its hood drawn was a woman with most features hidden, aside from pale ghostly skin and burning red eyes.

Behind her ship departed four floating lances all made of a highly polished metal; on her back was a sword hybridized with a sabers vibrant energy. On her hips her lightsabers dangled, long unused and dusty. A woman ready for war by her appearence in every respect, dark shadowy tendrills wisping off her as she continued to walk to the entrance, ignoring each and every guard shouting orders to her.

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Something stopped the guards, made their bodies tighten. An alien presence flooding their cognition, darkness unspooling in the whites of their eyes until all they could do was step away; out of her path. The doors to the estate opened at her approach, the shadows within beckoning her to delve further. Once she'd crossed that threshold, the doors closed behind her with a shuddering grind of stone on metal.

Within was the austere decor she'd come to know during her time in close proximity with the Eternal Father. Banners and tapestries decorated the walls, depicting the victory of the Sith and their long, grand history. Busts of prominent Sith Lords of ancient history also watched her impassively as she passed, stone eyes following her movement.

"It has been a long time," boomed the deep, velvety voice of the Dark Lord as she burst into the throne room, the very icon of her ire seated upon a throne constructed as a monument to His glory. It rose like an ancient monolith; vast, angular, and obsidian-black. It did not cradle the Dark Lord, it elevated Him. It was no mere seat of power, it was a symbol of the cosmic right of the Sith to dominate all life in the universe.

It's lines were severe, hewn with the pitiless geometry of conquest and violence, offering no comfort, no respite. Within the stygian mass of it's backrest, a slash of crimson; the Dark Lord's own seat. Behind the throne, a banner emblazoned with the starburst of the Kainate. It cascaded down from an unseen height above the throne, the fabric immense and dyed in the ichor of a thousand conquered stars. The light of the chamber did not reach it, but it glowed nonetheless with a luminescence of it's own.

The emblem of the Kainate stared down at Morrow as she approached, just as the eyes of her former husband did. "You are bold to come here. So why have you? This is quite a reckless endeavor, Morrow."

Darth Morrow ​

 

[Darth Morrow]

Morrow paid no mind to the ostentatious decor as she walked down the halls, her goal pushing her through in a near mindless state as it was all she focused on the goal that dragged her back into the midst of Sith space, in the limelight of those she owed favors, debts, and even her life to.

In recent years her stability began to drift, the countless lives she lived in such a short span, the brainwashing, the torment and torture, it all weighed in her heavily and began to burrow its way from the jarred existance in her mind and leave cracks in its wake. Anyone that knew her well could see it was near a breaking point.

Standing before Kaine was a woman he knew well, but somehow not at all. Yes they had been married for a time, had children, but in not any of that time could it have been said to be pleasant, at least not pleasant in the definition of her free will. Perhaps a moment or two they shared a genuine connection, a happy passing second before the veil was dragged once more before her eyes and she was lead to believe things werent as they were. Here stood a woman aware of each and every moment of the trickery.

Molten eyes glared up to him on his obsidian dais, spears behind her tilting so their jagged edge pointed directly at his heart, or at least where it would be if he had one.

"After all these years, you still feel the need to ask why I've come? You should know by now." Morrows words indeed displayed the ire held in her own heart. "Id say for answers, but I know the words you speak would never be the truth. No I've come for redemption by my own hand."

As she finished her small monologe the same hybridized blade he had given her years prior found its way into her hand, the edge coming alight with plasma as she twirled it slightly, waiting for the beast of a man to meet her at eye level.

"Its poetic, you essentially made me, I'm here to unmake you."

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"You should not have come back," breathed the Dark Lord, His eyes illuminated with the cruelty she'd come to know all too well. He rose in that moment, His every movement a tectonic quake in the Force. He was every bit the conqueror she remembered Him as, though not exactly the same. Like a gemstone that had been cut into a different shape, the same foundation remained but the angles were all wrong.

Even His shadow was bent at odd angles, distorting beyond the natural means of light and darkness. It appeared to fluctuate with a liveliness all it's own, bending and twisting in defiance of the architecture around it. A faint, but visible, smirk had been etched into the shadow's face; eternally mocking.

"The truth I gave you was the truth I had made, that is all that mattered. Whatever life you thought was taken from you was never yours to begin with, even the breath you take now is borrowed. All that you see exists to cater to my ambition, Morrow. Life, in all it's complexity, exists only to serve. You were once a valuable object, one that I had carefully cultivated. But your usefulness has outlived itself, you should have resigned yourself to the sanctuary of irrelevance."

Each word bit deep, but the Dark Lord did not speak merely to inflict suffering, but to elucidate truth. His truth. The truth as He saw it, the truth as He shaped it. That this malfunctioning instrument of past ambition should dare presume to think itself worthy of standing in His presence was frankly laughable. Thankfully, He did not laugh. He instead stared at her with cold, calculating eyes; the eyes of a predator sizing up it's prey.

His own lightsaber slunk into His waiting hand, fingers curling around the long, leather-wrapped handle. A forked, jagged crown walled in the emitter, the blood-red blade hissing angrily to life between them. Growling, seething with dark rage, the crackling plasma blade hungrily bayed for violence.

He levied the weapon towards Morrow, armored boots set in a wide stance as He squared His broad shoulders. His towering frame slightly pivoted to one side, narrowing His body's sihlouette. Then, He readjusted His blade to stand parallel across His body in a diagonal streak of brilliant scarlet, shielding heart and throat. Around Him, the Dark Side churned; quiet and oppressive, coiled like a tide waiting to crash.

Again, His voice called out. "Come and unmake me, Morrow. Let us see what all your hate is worth."

Darth Morrow ​

 

[Darth Morrow]

The form of Morrow faltered as her body shifted in the shadows of its creation, fingers gripping the handle of her blade began extending as the nails became sharp weapons of their own.
Wisps of darkness drifted off of Morrow as the spears behind her began to alter, morphing into one long haliberd like bladed spear, its edge thin enough to split a cell.

"I won't just unmake you, I'll undo everything you've ever done!" The words came out in a screech, more akin to a boasting creature warding off prey than a person.

With little warning the ghostly woman charged forward, the dust around her feet puffing into a cloud as her form vacated the space and suddenly appeared before her former husband, the blade in her hands aimed for his core. A distraction for the flames in the palm of her other hand to meet with his face.

As she closed in the look in her eyes would reveal just how disturbed she had become, unhinged and insane as the reality of this being a last ditch effort to make something of herself became evident.

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

His blade re-positioned as she made her initial charge, moving directly to intercept her weapon even before it's trajectory became clear. It screeched with violent fury as the two blades connected. His eyes never once left her own, His gaze penetrating and uncompromising. They didn't even look at Morrow's hand as it shot forth, a gout of flame engulfing the Dark Lord's head in a whirlwind of fire.

The fire burned for only a moment before snuffed out like a candlelight. Carnifex appeared unaffected, a sheath of scintillating circuitry clinging tight to His skin. The armor had acted intrinsically according to His unspoken will, acting quicker than the mind could process to defend it's master.

It was in that moment that the Dark Lord retaliated, throwing off Morrow's blade with a heavy push and then launching into a fury of strikes and blows. His great physical strength was put to use, each swipe of His blade carrying with it the full momentum of His arms; corded muscle bulging against sun-kissed skin. Block enough blows, and the strength behind them was enough to fracture Morrow's wrists.

He didn't speak for a time, allowing the immensity of His silence to fall over the duel like a funerary shroud. His eyes spoke enough for Morrow, radiating with an intense hatred that she knew all too well.

Darth Morrow ​

 

[Darth Morrow]

Morrow's blade rose to block Kaine's own, her arm slipping back a bit more with each hit. After the first two she'd allow herself to be knocked back, dipping down and around the next swings with an elegant grace in her extreme speed.

As his onslaught of attacks came to an end she'd attempt to sweep his legs with a swift kick, only to attempt to shove off of him if it failed.

Her hair fell from its band to dangle in front of her face, a sharp exhale brushing it away for but a moment as she shoved off the ground toward him once more. The edge of her top falling revealed the edge of the symbol of the Sith, Carnifex's former empire, still emblazened on her back, carved through the pale skin. It was but a small distraction for a fleeting second.

Her stamina couldn't keep up with his, but she would try her best, blade swinging in controlled motions to attempt to break his guard.

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

They decoupled, the Dark Lord flipping back in an uncommon feat of acrobatics, though a far cry from what a true acrobat could achieve. He landed with a heavy thud, the stone cracking and buckling beneath the impact of His descent. Watching His former wife carefully, He noticed the slip of her top and the hint of the old Empire's symbol printed across the skin of her back. An old relic, one that should have been swallowed up with the rest who'd been abandoned.

She came back at Him again, disheveled and manic. His blade moved expertly and without distress. In a battle of attrition, He'd win; and she knew it as well. Perhaps this was her ultimate intention all along, to lose herself in a vain struggle and find solace in suicide against His blade. If He'd retained any semblance of affection for her, perhaps He would've pitied her. But no, His heart was too black for such a trivial notion.

"It is disappointing," rumbled the Dark Lord, the first time He'd spoken since the start of their duel. "To see how far you've diminished. Tell me of your surviving children, fallen queen. Perhaps they will provide better sport."

Darth Morrow ​

 

[Darth Morrow]

In a feral burst of energy Morrow surged forward like an animal, slashing at him wildly. All the while the haliberd that had been formed behind her began its swings in unison. The weapon was swung by an unseen force, shimmering shadow that blended with the darkness around them.

Morrow was determined to leave him with even a scratch. Between attacks her fury only grew, anger building inside that threatened to rip her in two, it was a feeling she had surpressed for so long.

"How dare you bring my children into this!" She'd let out a scream imbued with the force, the shriek enough to blow eardrums of anyone not resistent.

On her final launch of a strike in this bought of energy, the haliberd shattered into hundreds of small shards, all launching towards the behemoth of a man before her. However, in this moment she needed to recover her stamina.

Darth Carnifex