A Very Stupid Idea (Mikhail, Closed)

[Triko]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSUIQgEVDM4

TATOOINE - THE DUNE SEA​

It was eerily cold upon the dunes.

Shimmering softly, the twin suns sank towards the horizon; bit by bit the purple mountains consumed them, and slowly the sky shifted through a myriad of beautiful shades. Beneath the towering cliffs of purple, upon a rise of rock, black as coal in the shadows, Triko lay. For hours he had stared into the skies, entranced by their beauty. ​

​

Time had brought him a million beautiful things, conclusions and thoughts and ideas unlike anything any mind could possibly conceptualize. The colours of a galaxy that no one would ever visit; the dreams of a thousand long dead men. In the darkness, he saw silver horses running down moonbeams, yellow tigers crouched in unseen jungles. A marble staircase to the heavens, a hundred voices calling through crystal trees that floated among the stars. ​

​

For him, the very sand beneath his boots was a vast sea of solid, shining gold.​

For everyone else, he was just a jawa tripped out on spice, lying atop a rock.

Either worked.

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A man walked through the dunes. The wind rustled his raven hair and littered it with sand. Cold blue eyes stared steady against the harsh light of Tatooine's setting suns. The man trudged through the sands, features a mixture of disgust and irritation. Tatooine was a pathetic hell hole. Armpit of the galaxy. Too hot. Too dry. Why would anyone want to live here? You couldn't grow anything. There was hardly any water. That moisture farming was a profitable business here said a lot.

The figure scowled at a rock formation in the distance. Sand, sand and more sand. Broken up by the occasional "Oh look, a rock!" Mikhail Shorn gritted his teeth and kept trudging on. Wait, what the hell was that? It looked like a Jawa lying on top of the rock. But the Jawa didn't seem very cognitive of his surroundings. Shorn rolled his eyes and kept walking, intending to pass the mile high little guy.
@[member="Triko"]

 

[Triko]

The Jawa raised his hand before his face.

What he saw was a beast that floated among the stars, straddling the mountains on the distance with five swirling legs. It was made of black crystal; as he turned his hand, he saw the beast spin, pirouetting upon shining stars, glittering like diamonds. Triko saw nothing but beauty. He was a still lake of glimmering blue. Peaceful, vast. Every thought was slow, calculated- nothing was without purpose. Then he felt a ripple. ​

​

His euphoric paradise was shattered in an instant. The graceful monster of black crystal cracked and shattered, falling between the purple peaks as hazy skies burned bright. He rose to restore his heaven, to purge the invader.​

When he got to his feet, a cloud of spice fell about him, slowly dissipating as he stared blankly to the dark figure as he approached.

"Go."

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Shorn stopped walking, feet crunching softly into the sand. He hated this place. Sand, sand, and more sand. And it got everywhere. The dry heat of the setting suns began to fade as night slowly set in. He couldn't wait for the coolness of night. Except it wasn't all that much better. Instead of dying by heatstroke he'd just get hypothermia. Yay.

He turned to the Jawa, who'd hopped up and was staring at him. A cloud of some sparkling dust poofed around him. Mikhail sniffed the air. Oh hell. What was this Jawa on? His eyes narrowed as the brown-robed rat told him to "go." Whatever that meant.

"Come again?"

[member="Triko"]

 

[Triko]

The man was speaking- Triko walked to the very edge of the rock, staring down upon this invader.

"Go." His tone was unchanged. He extended one arm.

Beneath the rock, Triko saw his kingdom. A vast continent of platinum gold, ringed with peaks violet by the light of twin suns. The first stars of the eve, glittering through the hazy fires; each exuded naught but beautiful emotion. Then he saw the threat. Dark, brooding pestilence in human form; he had come to lay this glorious kingdom to waste, to rape and pillage everything he had worked for. This would not be tolerated- the golden dunes were his, and his alone.​

Triko drew a blaster rifle and cocked it.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Dark brows furrowed at [member="Triko"]'s single spoken word. Mikhail stood still, feet planted in the sands. A light breeze swept across the dunes, playing lightly across his raven hair. The zephyr placated the oppressive heat, though the sun still beat down with blinding, life-sapping rays. Mikhail licked chapped, cracked lips. His features, normally starkly pale, slowly tanned from repeat sunburns. Yet those eyes, those ice-blue eyes, stared with a coldness that beat back the heat.

He inhaled sharply, drawing in the Dark Side. Suddenly, his head started swimming. He noticed the haze of sparkling glitterstim dust that swarmed around Triko. Feth. Second-hand high.

Then the Jawa drew a snake. No, what? The serpent writhed in the little figure's hands, curling and twisting, then lashing out to strike Shorn. Mikhail stumbled backward and unleashed a blast of telekinesis meant to knock the serpent far, far away.

 

[Triko]

With a crash the Jawa fell- the gun was ripped from his hands, and in an instant he was lying flat on the rock, dazed and confused.

The invader was relentless- he had destroyed the instrument of peace that was to cleanse the realm in a mere instant. There was no other option but to summon all the power in the realm; a titan among ants, Triko rose. For that moment, as he stood atop the rock with the twin suns fading behind him, he cast a shadow taller than any man in the world. ​

​

Standing once more, he drew a machete. The long, heavy knife was dulled with use, but nonetheless sharp- nicks lined sections of the blade.

The second keeper of the peace was prepared- it shone by the twin suns, glittering like crystal. It was beauty, distilled and pure, a cold spirit of unbelievably delicate murderous vengeance.​

​

Then he leapt from the rock and onto the man, machete in hand.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]