Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

A song of steel and a tiny phrik: Darth Vornskr [Panatha]

{Original Thread of Obtaining Phrik}

Panatha...

Of all the clients she had thus far visited, this would be her least favorite. The Black Iron Tyrant, Ex-Emperor of the fallen Sith Empire, War criminal. She didn't like the idea of dealing with a truly eccentric Sith Lord, and she wasn't entirely sure she could take him... which was a huge rule breaker on her part; never sell to someone you don't think you could take on if they betray you. She'd make a lasting fight anyway, near impervious to saber, a glove to deactivate said lightsabers, bypass them (at least once) for electrocution or hallucinogenic drug injection... yet she knew that would be difficult for this Darth. He could easily swat away her Phantom Fingers or electrocute them to fry her glove and in all likelihood he would just zap her until her armor melted onto her flesh.

She would have to fix that at some point. Even if the client had wanted this to be a private exchange, it was incredibly difficult to hide a reputation like Kaine's, especially being the ruler of the planet she was current orbiting at the moment. This was a truly unsettling experience that she wasn't sure why she was putting up with it. She wanted the credits though, and he was willing to pay her price for a big chunk of it. Also, she hoped the Sith knew reason enough not to kill a good supplier like herself, having already boasted a small reputation. "The Pit" Escapee, Terrorist of Roche, Popo's Four Ton Queen, and Gladiator of the Cauldron (hopefully the soon to be Victor).

She had her skills, and she would remind him that she was useful, and open to business at any time.

Not sure where to land, she contacted the Client.

"This is your "Special" shipment, where do I land?" She spoke calmly.

@[member="Darth Vornskr"]
 
A voice garbled over the transceiver to reply, "I'll open the private hanger bay for you, I'll relay the coordinates to you." The beacon that activated would lead Akovin to a large citadel build on a peninsula overlooking the vast blue sea that spanned outwards for hundreds of miles. On the eastern side of the citadel would be a hanger bay large enough for most freighters, floodlights bathing the inside with a hazy light as a small contingent of soldiers silently awaited for her to land. Once the ship was safely secured in the hanger the blast doors behind the ship would close to prevent any unneeded or sudden leaving that could jeopardize the transaction that was about to occur, just for safety precautions of course. The Black Iron Tyrant was always secure in his financial dealings, and he didn't want to let the supplier go until he made sure he got what was promised him and not a moment before. The soldiers would escort Akovin to the throne room once she had exited the craft and brought with her the shipment of Phrik for their master.

The Soldiers were unlike anything she might have seen before, tall and lanky and covered with armor black as the night. These were the Black Iron Immortals that had served the Black Iron Tyrant long before he was the Emperor of the Sith Empire, back when they were known as HYDRA, and then when they were known as the Blackblades. Their name may of changed, but their purpose did not. They were the protectors of Kaine Zambrano, his most loyal and most powerful soldiers who would give their life at his whim. The wielded large light-pikes, lightsabers with an abnormally long hilt that acted as a spear as well as a lightsaber, and they carried them now as they slowly moved through the twisting corridors of the citadel. Throughout the darkened halls, the cries of passions could be heard plain as day. For this was the den of passion, where all occupants were allowed to voice their anger, hatred, violence, and untamed lusts however they pleased. Murder was a common occurence in the citadel, and even now the guards passed by a hall with a ravaged corpse and did nothing about it. However; a cleanup crew would come by later and remove the body to feed it to the hounds.

Finally they reached the throne room, a macabre chamber of horrifying darkness, where a tangle of sex and violence unraveled before the massive black iron throne that rose above all like an otherworldly monolith. Atop the throne sat the client, Kaine Zambrano, watching with all the sadistic glee in the galaxy at the spectacle unraveling before him. His attention shifted when he noticed the guards had come with the supplier and the cache of goodies, "Ah, there it is. I was anxiously waiting for you to arrive, I had hoped they would have finished by now, but my estimations were off slightly. Come, come. Show me what you've brought me."

@[member="Triam Akovin"]
 
@[member="Darth Vornskr"]

As Triam landed something in her gut absolutely refused to go anywhere closer to this hive of unspeakable evils, but it was a slave to the mind, a mind bent on monetary gain with a penchant and addiction to exhilaration. She could not stop herself from landing on this peculiar and vile platform no more than she could keep herself out of a fight. Where money was involved, Triam was it's slave, so long as it offered the abuse of danger.


Vornskr then, was the perfect catalyst to draw in her sickly desires. The walked slowly through the citadel in escort by the lanky soldiers. They were indeed strange, but strangely enough, rather than making her fear the power of the Darth, they gave her a degree of safety when the passionate moaning and dead bodies started appearing. Their power was for naught against her armor and skill, but she was able to trust their authority in this place to protect her from the made people this Tyrant seemed to rule over.


"Quite the spectacle you have before me. I can't say I particularly enjoy it. Now," She pulled out a canister from her back, and hefted it before her. "To business, I suppose. Are you the Client?" She stared at him hardly through the slit of her helmet.
 
"I am he, you may call me Lord Vornskr." He said in his booming voice, which seemed to outdo every other noise around them, including the passionate moaning of the intertwined bodies in the center of the chamber. If you listened closely you would hear that his voice was layered with an echo, as if another smaller voice spoke alongside his own but was constantly throttled by his booming baritone. "This is my castle, my world, my realm. It's goings and comings are under my absolute control, including allowing you to come so far into it's depths. Not many get the privilege to stand before me, so considered yourself honored. But enough of these pleasantries, let's get down to business. If I am correct that canister should hold my 14.5 kilos of Phrik, and if it does I am prepared to deposit your pay directly into your account." He said in a matter of fact tone, his voice dripping with promises of untold agony should that case be proved false. With a gently sway of his hand the canister would rise into the air, and slowly float towards the Tyrant unless stopped in anyway.

@[member="Triam Akovin"]
 
@[member="Darth Vornskr"]

Triam never broke her gaze from the dark Lord as his voice sent a cold shiver through her body. She didn't like is at all, but was so completely enthralled in it's exotic attraction. He went so quickly to business, and this was good. She allowed herself to smirk in pleasure through his short speech.


Then pleasure immediately reciprocated into displeasure. The canister started to lift to the Tyrants command. Despite what the guards might do, her Phantom Fingers launched out and latched onto the canister. Her stance suggested combat at a moments notice and her voice confirmed this. Her cables on the canister pulled against his might in the force.


"I will accept nothing less than a physical transfer. I hate to break it to you, but people don't generally trust the word of the likes of you and your ilk." If she had half a mind right now, she would be hoping she didn't just kill herself right there. "The deal was and remains this, the transfer of material and credits occurs when both have hands on each. I will trust nothing else, and a technological transference cannot be held, my Lord Vornskr." Her eyes bore into his face through her helmets visor.
 
Vornskr's mouth curled into a line of displeasure, and for a moment, just a moment, it seemed like he'd lash out at Triam with his power and might. At the last second thought, his expression changed into one of mirth and he relinquished his hold on the canister. "Very well, we'll do things your way. Unlike some of my ilk, I still respect guest rights to an extent." He snapped his fingers, and a pair of hooded servants emerged from the darkness of the room's corners. They prostrated themselves before the Black Iron Tyrant, not saying a word out of either absolute submission or indescribable fear, it was hard to say. "Fetch the nice lady her three-hundred and sixty two thousand five hundred credit payment from the treasury. Put it in one of those gilded chests, and haul it back up here. I'm sure our Lady supplier would want to count them for herself." The servants scurried off like the rats they were, their faces even had a rat-like quality when the light shown under their hoods, to the castle treasury to fulfill their master's bidding.

Meanwhile, the sound of pleasure had momentarily subsided as the participants looked on in abstract anxiety at both Triam and Vornskr, as the feeling of his immense displeasure had been felt by all. Vornskr noticed this, and with a wave of his hand he commanded them to continue their grotesque ritual of debauchery. If you now got a good look at it the entire scene looked odd and misplaced, as if there was something far more sinister going on than just a run-of-the-mill sex pile.

@[member="Triam Akovin"]
 
@[member="Darth Vornskr"]

EDIT: (sorry, I accidentally pressed post before I was ready, one moment... All done!)

"That is a good thing my Lord." What was she saying? What had even happened? What power does she have in commanding this dark lord? How did she even survive it? She was hot headed, and made a risky gamble. She spoke without thinking of the consequences and lucked out. Bereft of any true safety or power in this world Triam Akovin had literally bargained her life with the devil, with nothing to offer but meaningless words. She survived not out of wit or skill, but because of luck in that her Client had been like a business man himself in a time long forgotten.


She watched with an even face as the chest rolled out, filled with exactly what she wanted. She nodded in approval as the electronic neurons fired in her silicon hand to the pressure of her finger tips upon the hard surface of victory. Satisfied she returned her gaze to the Lord.


"I would say it has been a pleasure doing business with you, but all I can say is that I hope you call me again for my services. You have been surprisingly amicable." She felt satisfied again with this farewell, it set the correct tone for her relationship with this particular Client. She stretched out her hand with the canister again, offering it to his manipulation, while her hand rested upon the coveted chest.


"Am I allowed to leave now?" Her seriousness drained and she dropped all formalities associated with the Exchange Procedure. Her query was impatient, demanding, and adolescent in nature.
 
"As soon as I see that your end of the bargain has been fulfilled." With another wave of his hand the canister hovered towards him, before resting gently in his hand. With his other hand he unsealed the canister and peered cautiously into it's depths. When his eyes fell upon the phrik neatly placed inside, his demeanor changed to one of mirth once more. With another wave the 14.5 kilos of phrik gently filed out of the canister and arranged themselves neatly on his outstretched hand. Utilizing a series of mathematics and the Forces, he quickly came to the conclusion that his shipment was all here and accounted for, and was the real deal. He sent the bars back into the canister, and resealed it. "You have pleased me, and thus I am in a good mood. You may leave, unless you wish to remain longer? They're about to finish." He said with a smile as his eyes fell back on the mound of wriggling bodies in the center of the room, but this time Triam would be able to see exactly what was so off about it.

Each woman had a dagger strapped to their thigh.

@[member="Triam Akovin"]
 
@[member="Darth Vornskr"]

"That's a little nasty," Triam said, again with the same informal adolescent tone. She watched the two with a mixture of disgust and embarrassed captivation. Now that money was no longer a concern, and she had gotten over for the most part her fear of the Dark Lord since he held no cards for her (i.e., immune to sabers, immune to most mind trickery [due to money], immune to telekinesis for the most part, he didn't have her money, that sort of thing etc.). Since she was such an avid observer, she was able to catch on to the daggers on the peoples thighs, and pondered what kinky sort of love making this was.

"You know they have the holonet for this sort of stuff right?" She said almost with a chuckle... almost. She couldn't help contemplating the daggers purpose in this odd seemingly ceremonious occurrence. Since he was a Sith Lord, it only really lead to one conclusion. On way or another both or one of them were going to die in some painful way, probably for some cult-ish ritual. Of course, she wasn't intentionally staying, but unfortunately the depraved Tyrant had captivated her curiosity, and now she was gambling with sating it at the expense of something titled "things that might make Akovin unhappy".

"I will be leaving," She said but did not move, perplexed by her inability to control herself. There was, of course, nothing going on that prevented her form leaving other than her ardent curiosity.
 
Their pleasure reached an ear-splitting crescendo, the air growing unnaturally dark as the woman pinned the man to the floor, yet continued to carry out the diabolical act. At last the act reached it's glorious conclusion, and in a haze of sexual euphoria and murderous lust the woman unsheathed the dagger at her side, and effortless ran the blade through the man's throat. The blade easily cut to the bone, and with a gargle the man thrashed as his life bloods began to explode outward like a fountain onto the naked form of the woman who had just ended him. The strangest thing, however; is that in his final moments before his throat was cut, the man clearly saw the blade and welcomed it's cold embrace openly. As the life drained out of the man, the woman who sat atop him naked finally rose, covered in a combination of blood and sweet, limped over to the King, bowed, and then left the chamber. The corpse of the man would eventually be carried off by the servants, and fed to the beasts in the pens down below. "Such a pleasing ritual, not many get to bare witness to it's grandeur. You should consider yourself honored, Lady Akovin."

@[member="Triam Akovin"]
 
[member="Darth Vornskr"]

Triam was immediately abhorred by the ritual. Nothing even happened! Their sick and twisted sacrifice was all for naught, it was a ritual solely for the sick pleasure of their master. How something so disgusting as Vornskr could maintain loyalty in these people made her disgusted with herself. She was human, they were essentially human... he in her eyes, was essentially human. How could any sentient creature be capable of such... vile debauchery!

She was capable of such a repulsive prospect, even if she did not believe it. She watched a man die for nothing more than a tyrant, and willingly! She needed to leave this place before she decided she could take on this whelp. Her fists vibrated as her eyes were frozen in hot rage of what had been witnessed. The calculating portion of her mind was quickly over powered by her hot temper. She pointed a threatening finger at the Dark Lord as she yelled across the room.

"The only honor I could possibly feel in this place, is if you found yourself six feet under my feet! I will take my leave now, I'm through with your inhuman enterprise!" She stormed out, and bossed around the guards almost effortlessly in her technologically enhanced rage. If the Sith resisted her withdrawal then she would undoubtedly be unable to control the urge to kill him.
 
Vornskr laughed as she left, but he called out one last time. "I hope to see more of you again, my dear." As she left, the doors closed with a resounding boom behind her. She was free to leave, and none of the guards dared block her passage or obstruct her in any way. Her ship remained unmolested, and a pair of guardsman chuckled and bowed graciously as she passed them. Even still, while not physically close to the Dark Lord, she would no doubt feel the creeping sensation he was watching her all the same. His ritual in the throne room may not have appeared to accomplish anything, but it was far from that. Murder is the foulest thing a person could do under their own roof, and Vornskr was staining his castle with murder and vile debauchery so horrific, that it was seeping with the Dark Side. As was intended.

[member="Triam Akovin"]
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom