Private At the End of All Your Trials (Rannon)

[Rann Thress]

C O N Q U E R T H E D A R K​

Tags: Nimue Damsy Callat​

Spoiler: Theme

The Valley of Ternaax has been through trials and tribulations of it's own. Eight hundred years ago, a dark jedi came to it's beautiful landscapes and corrupted it. The trees withered, and died. The waters ran black. The air was stale. And the valley was filled with dread. Then, the Jedi came. The temple was rebuilt, refurbished, cleansed and made into a home for the Lightsiders. A home for the jedi, here and forever. Life returned to the valley. The trees regained their color and leaves, covering the valley in green. The waters ran clear and beautiful, filled with fish, and the skies were clear and beautiful themselves... until the Jedi left. Moss crept back up the walls of the temple. Leaves started to fall off the trees, the waters became putrid once more, and the wildlife fled, returning the Valley to the Darkness that had claimed it all those centuries ago.​

​

This storied past, this checkered history that the Valley of Ternaax had gone through spoke to Rann. The darkness, the light, and the impressive temple. It felt like a home. More then that, it felt like the perfect place to conquer his inner darknesses. It felt like the perfect place for him to go through his personal trials, and to return himself to the good man he once was. The man who empathized with imaginary refugees, or loved a woman on a peaceful planet. The man who was whole, complete, without imperfections and metal permanently fixated to his body.​

​

He missed that man. Who was. He hated who is, now, and sought to conquer himself forever. To that end, Rannon and this temple was perfect. The ultimate place of exposure therapy. ​

​

Rann sat in the mainhall of this abandoned temple. Old Jedi Order flags hung from pillars surrounding him, dusty, torn, and having lost their vibrant color. While he knelt, Rann imagined the scene. The continuation of his dream, his vision from the last time he was on Rannon. He felt it, as real as the marbled ground beneath his knees...​

​

Two men, sabers drawn. One in darkness, wielding a red saber, the other in white wielding blue. Words are exchanged, and promptly ignored, and the man in black attacks, saber clashing against saber producing brilliant purple sparks. Red saber moves deftly, confidently, and with rage in a flurry of attacks high and low, seeking an opening to bring the engagement to a swift and decisive end. Blue saber moves with purpose, defending every move. Every attack expertly parried, every attempted killing blow batted aside almost effortlessly. The assault is unrelenting, untiring, however. And it doesn't take long for the man in black to start forcing the man in white backwards. Sensing an opportunity, the man in white rolls to the side, breaking for the temple shrouded in fog. He turns around, putting his back towards the opening of the temple, allowing himself to fall backwards into a more defensive position if need be. The man in black turns to see his opponent, his preys new position and scoffs. Positioning didn't matter, the ending of this duel was already decided long ago. He renewed his attack. Lunges, slashes, jumps and flips that are countered. Every attempt to jump behind the man in white using Ataru is defended against with the man in white leaping backwards, maintaining his defensive position and allowing himself to be forced back into the temple. The doors swing open and the two enter, blue saber being forced back by red. As they enter, the doors swing close.​

​

And Rann's eyes swing open, pale yellow where blue should be.​

​

"Someone's here."​

​

Spoiler: OOC

A link is broken? It's supposed to link to this thread https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/iokath-safe-harbor.137445/, and does, but it doesn't register it as a link. Oh well, I've colored it light blue in the hopes it gets the same point across <_>

 

[Nimue]

T A G S | Rann Thress - Damsy Callat
​

A green patchwork blanket stretched as far as the eye could see, covering Ranon’s surface in an impenetrable shield of forestry and flora. Having rarely had the time to stop and enjoy the beauty in things, Nimue refrained from starting now. True, she could ramble on about the spectacle of mother nature, praising something that would never truly appreciate her words, but that was a waste of time. At least in her opinion. There were far more important things to do than stopping to smell the roses.​

Nimue approached the temple on foot, having chosen to abandon her ship a mile out thanks to the craggy mountain the temple was built on. The abandoned building had been visible from the moment she set down. A towering structure of grey on grey, covered in a thick layer of forest green. A spectacle of archeology if nothing else, but in comparison to the Temple of her coven, it was nothing.​

Thick heeled boots crunched gravel underfoot as she approached the slightly ajar doors to the temple. Someone was here already. A dark, yet somehow vaguely familiar presence. She could smell it on the stale air that whipped through the empty shell of what had once been great and powerful. No matter. As long as they avoided her, Nimue was content to avoid them. She had not come to Rannon for a fight, she had come to learn. To discover what secrets there were, if any, that the temple stored in its deserted depths. ​

An elegant wave of her wrist saw the door creak open on rusted hinges as Nimue stepped forward to enter the temple. There was magik at work here that even she wasn’t entirely party to, something that was a rarity for a High Priestess of a coven. It seemed to be trapped, contained within the walls its previous masters sought to control it in. Nimue dipped into the dark hallway, allowing a finger to trail gently against the wall where the stone seemed to be crumbling.​

This would hopefully prove to be an interesting and worthwhile trip.​

 

[Rann Thress]

I N T E R L O P E R​

Tags: Nimue Damsy Callat​

Spoiler: Theme

Rann rose from his knees and turned around, walking out from the Great Hall of the Temple to go investigate the new presence he felt. It was familiar to him, one that brought up memories of anger and shame. The closer he got the more familiar it felt, the angrier he got at what he felt was an invasion of his privacy, of his realm. However, he determined it'd be within his best interests to remain cordial to whoever this person was, for fear it was someone whose bad side he ought not get on.​

​

When he approached, however, all illusions of cordiality disappeared fast. Rann recognized Nimue 's appearance, and remembered where he knew her from.​

​

​

"You. I know you. Rodia. You threatened me." He said, raising a finger, pointing at her. If it was possible for looks to kill, Rann would have done it. It felt as if lasers were being fired through his eyes into her head.​

All facets of reason quickly vanished as Rann's paranoia riddled brain began piecing together possible reasons for her being here. Nevermind the fact that this was once a Jedi Temple, and a Darksider Temple before that, If she was here she was here for a reason.​

​

"You.....you're here to kill me?" He shouted at her in an accusatory manner. "Think I'm some type of threat?!" He withdrew his lightsaber and ignited it.​

​

PPpsssheeew ​

​

A yellow blade illuminated the darkened hall of the once proud and vibrant Jedi Temple.​

​

"I didn't do anything! I won't let you kill me!" He screamed, his hands shaking with fear as he readied himself for her attack.​

​

Liars. Deceivers. All of them. They all want to kill me! No they don't! No she doesn't! Why would--SHE DOES. SHE'S HERE TO KILL ME. SHE'D JUST HAPPEN UPON ME HERE? This is a temple! A JEDI Temple! There's history here! What's more likely? That she'd be here to kill me or that she'd be here to learn something? LIARS. ALL OF THEM. THE ENEMY. ANYONE WHO ISN'T ME IS AN ENEMY. Damsy too? Aren too? Come to your senses! I WILL KILL HER FIRST. I WILL KILL HER FIRST.​

​

"YOU WON'T GET ME. AAGGGGHHHHHH!"​

Rann angled his blade straight at Nimue and charged. He'd kill her. He'd protect himself. It's what had to happen.​

​

She was here to kill him.​

 

[Nimue]

T A G S | Rann Thress - Damsy Callat​

Rather enjoying the subtle peace that an abandoned building held, Nimue was content to pace the hallways with an almost lazy gait. It held many useful and intriguing things on the walls of the corridors alone. She was here to learn, why not take her time? There was just one thing that prevented the High Priestess from dropping her defenses immediately. The other presence, shifting slowly through the force. At first, it had merely served as a mildly irritating distraction. Something that was preventing her from losing herself in ancient knowledge completely. But then…​

It began to move. Swiftly. Until it was so close she could almost hear the thud of his heart in her ears. ​

Her eyes did not move from their inspection of engravings at his voice, nor did she acknowledge him for the first few moments. “Yes.” She spoke simply. “I recall you. You strode into that makeshift hospital. Full of darkness, hatred…” Nimue let her hand fall back down to her side. Traits she would have ordinarily admired, but not that day. “Ready to fall easily and willfully over the edge. Into a pit I have not yet seen the end of.”​

The fevered pitch of his tone finally forced her to turn on her heel to face him. He was as angry and broken as the day they’d bumped into each other. Daggers for eyes that only aimed to cause harm, harsh words that were as fiery as the soul that spat them. Nimue rose a moon white brow in response to his accusation. “I would not waste a single draw of breath killing you.” It was an exceedingly honest statement. He was not worthy of her time. He was not worthy of the energy it would take to slay him. Back on Rodia, he had threatened in some veiled way to destroy her charge. The hospital. That was why she had threatened him then, but now? He was just unfortunate enough to be in the same place as her, at the same time. ​

Which, Nimue had come to the sudden conclusion, was not as ironic as they both hoped to believe.​

The High Priestess’s face fell further when the blade of his saber burst into life, casting the dim hallways in a bright yellow glow. He screamed again, shifting in anticipation for her attack, but it wouldn’t come. Nimue did not dabble in the art of lightsabers, nor did she necessarily enjoy hunting for fights. If one came her way she would, of course, defend herself. But the Silmä were practiced in patience. In waiting. In holding out to defend, or attack, when the perfect time came. There would be no perfect time with this child, so full of hate. Even now she could see the battle raging across his face, even through his attempts to hide it. ​

Rann’s blade swung toward her in a hazy blur, but Nimue did nothing. Just as the blade looked as though it would bite into her moonlight flesh, the High Priestess faded. The blade went straight through her. As though it were merely a stone being thrown into the surface of a lake, her form rippled back and forth, merely a shadow of the woman it once was.​

A flash of eye watering obsidian smoke suddenly encircled Rann, aiming to do nothing but distract for a moment or two, but it did not matter either way. With the cloud of smoke came several more forms, first nothing but a blurry outline against the ebony backdrop. As it began to clear, the outlines formed a tangible presence in perfect likeness of the High Priestess. The shadowy copies surrounded him in a jagged circle, moving with the smoke as it danced ethereal patterns in the dimly lit corridors. “Fool.” They spoke together, in unison, as one. “Stop now, before you make an enemy you can never hope to defeat.”​

 

[Rann Thress]

K I L L​

TagsNimue Damsy Callat ​

​

Spoiler: Theme

For one, brief second there was a sense of elation and joy inside Rann's mind. As his saber passed clean through Nimue he thought that he had ended the fight. That he had saved himself from this would be murderer. But as she faded away into shadow, so too did the smile on his face fade, replaced by the fear and anger that had caused him to launch this attack in the first place.

“More lies! More deception!” He yelled out, panicked, as shadow copies of Nimue began surrounding him, speaking in unison.

“Fool.”

Rann’s breathes became even more shaky, as yet more fear flooded into his mind as he began to fear the depths of Nimue’s power compared to his. Without a sufficient engagement ever having been made, Rann had lost on the battlefield of psychology. But for a man who believed, without a doubt, that defeat here physically meant death; nothing could stop him from continuing his attack until the last, fueled now by the knowledge, the certainty of his demise.

“Stop now, before you make an enemy you can never hope to defeat.”

“I’ll...I’ll… Urrrghhh. I’ll make you work for it. You won’t get me WITCH!” Rann began swinging his lightsaber with reckless abandon. A Butcher hacking away at meat more than any measure of competent swordsman. Wild effort made to every stroke, like a cornered animal. 360 degrees of a yellow blur, trying desperately to destroy anything inside of 5ft. A whirlwind of motion, a frantic grasp to strike true and end the fight, no finesse or tactic behind it. Just….movement.

Inside his mind, however, a different story.

Rann, the Real Rann, sat watching, not moving a single muscle. Like a passenger in a speeder, or a member of an audience during a show, he watched as his Dark self tried everything in its power to kill itself, and Rann along with it. He stood, silent, watching as though in a darkened room surrounded by a giant screen, as this presence within his mind dominated his actions and controlled his body, forcing it to attack this person.

It was lucky his Rage was panicking, he thought to himself. He didn’t doubt that even on the best of days this Nimue would probably defeat Rann, but it was reassuring to see himself flailing either way.

But the sudden sadness at recognizing your inevitable end. At the end of all your trials. It crushed Rann. Or, at least, this part of him. He felt no despair, no overwhelming feeling of defeat. Just...sadness. It’s better this way, he thought.

Who knows how many people I’d kill. Or he’d kill. Who knows.

It wasn’t worth it.

He raised his head, gazing again at the carnage taking place outside his mind. He saw himself continue to flail...but he could feel the Force moving through him. Broadening his senses, he could see the rubble being picked up outside of the fight, and knew his intentions.

Hey watch out! he called out inside his mind. Hoping, praying that it’d reach her.

He collapsed to his knees inside his mind. That settled it, he thought. He was a danger.

Damsy. he called out. Sister. Please, I hope you can hear me. I need your help. Just this once.

He had to regain control. His body his...Rage wouldn’t go quietly. He might hurt this woman. Or others, if she couldn’t stop him. He had to end the fight himself. And hope that she could end him.

It’d be the best thing he could ever do for the galaxy.

 

[Damsy Callat]

B O N D E D​

Tags: Rann Thress Nimue​

"C'mon, folks!" Damsy spread her arms wide, walking across the barge's gangplank. "Didn't I do right by y'all?"

"Almost too!" a zabrak pirate hollered back at her. "If we didn't know better, we'd think you were some or another snitch."

"Or a cop!" a rattataki female at his side interjected lively.

Great. Damsy couldn't say she was surprised - she had had a pretty bad feeling about being made at the last disembarkation point - but she could still be disappointed. In herself? No. In this crew, deigning to be not dumb as a pile of bolts in one area, and one alone: Deception realization? Had its ocean drowned Kamino?

The sithspawn had just opened her mouth to rebut their claims - Please, a cop on Nar Shaddaa? - but evidently either the beats of silence she had allowed had been too telling or her inner monologue, short as it was, shone through her face. Then again, maybe both. The man asked as Damsy stepped down onto the deck, "Anyone eva tell ya you have a piss-poor sabacc face?" Not a moment after, both beings leveled their blasters at her.

She rose she hands and rocked back on her heel, brushing the step behind her. "Actually?" she question back as she glanced at her surroundings as inconspicuously as she could. To her right, a small scattering of boxes. "Yeah." For once, it wasn't just talk. A certain naval grand marshal had.

Damsy dove into her identified cover, but before she could gauge next moves, her name was lost in blasterfire. Her relation wasn't. She recognized the voice of the half-brother she had met months ago and not physically seen since.

Sister. Please, I hope you can hear me. I need your help. Just this once.

She screwed up her face at Rann's voice, both distant and close, ringing now through the fight unfolding around her. There was no time for confusion, but rather a dilemma: She wanted to, but she needed to help herself.

Rann! she thought as clearly as she could, without letting her mind drift to the gravity of her own situation. Which was her point of contact? What was her best vantage? How many where there now? No. Think now, think later. Hella bad timing. Can this wait for some arsekickin'?

 

[Nimue]

T A G S | Rann Thress - Damsy Callat
​

She felt the rush of wind as his saber came spinning toward her true form, ruffling the black robes that had hung undisturbed on her frame. He was wild and erratic, and only ever came near to his blade finding purchase through luck. Shadow jumping was something all her sisters were taught when they joined the coven. Mostly for ease of travelling around their temple, but it did have extremely useful applications in other aspects of life too. Like now. When he grew too close, Nimue was able to utilise the ebony smoke that surrounded them to slip through the nether, swapping her true form with a false one. However, she was running quickly out of options with every false apparition he managed to dispel.

Appearing from the last shadow, Nimue could do little but cloud the battlefield with more fog. More smoke. More darkness. She was not versed in the art of lightsabers. Though she knew the movements were erratic and less fluid than the movements of others she had fought, for all she knew this was a genuine tactic.

Watch out.

The phantom voice invaded Nimue’s mind, like a fly that had managed to slip through a slim crack in a window. The High Priestess spun, just in time to catch the rubble shuddering as it lifted and aimed itself at her. A swift wave of her hand dispelled the smoky manifestations of her, till only her true form remained. In replacement a shimmering translucent sphere of force flecked with gold wrapped around her form. The rubble smacked into the shield, sinking as though it had been thrown into a pool of custard. Before the sharp shrapnel could come close to bruising her skin, they crumbled. Leaving behind streams of yellow dust where there had once been a solid object.

Beyond stopping any serious injury, the shield gave Nimue time to think. Time to consider. The voice had come from somewhere, and she was certain it hadn’t been the oracle. This man before her, swinging his saber with all the grace and poise of a limbless rancor. He wasn’t all he seemed to be. Was this voice that called out trapped inside a body that did not belong to him? Or was his body being inhabited by a darker force? There was nothing she could do now to find out the answer. Despite her raging curiosity, she first had to take care of the raving lunatic that would eventually, without a doubt hit, her with his saber out of sheer dumb luck.

Nimue clenched her fist behind the safety of her shield. With it, came a rumble. A rumble that rocked the very foundations of the crumbling temple. Twisted, dying roots of trees long since past their prime sprung from the gaps in the cracked stone floors. They darted wildly, ancient rotting wood attempting to wind themselves around Ranns legs to trip him over. Or to snag an arm. Oracle be, even a light flick on the side of his head would do.

Anything.

 

[Rann Thress]

R E S I S T. K I L L. please​

Tags: Damsy Callat Nimue​

Spoiler: Theme

Rann struggled to visualize Damsy. He had to talk to her face to face. However he could.

He concentrated as hard as he could, focusing on her features. He didn't even know, really, what he was doing. Trying to create some sort of.... representation for her as they spoke, worlds apart. He sighed, looking out from inside his mind trying to reach hers.


"Damsy." He started, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to interrupt. But this can't wait."

He chuckled. "I'm sure you'll do great even with this interruption. I uh... I'm in some trouble. It doesn't look good." He looked back through his 'eyes' back at the fight, a sigh of relief escaping his lips when his warning allowed Nimue to avoid damage.

"I need your help to stop me."

Outside...

"AGGHHHHH" Rann yelled in frustration upon seeing his attack be thwarted. "Shadows or NOT. I WILL KILL YOU." He screamed and grabbed his head. SHUT. UP. SHUT UP. SHUTUPSHUTUP. I HAD HER.

You had nothing.

Rann dug his robotic fingers into his skull, drawing blood, yet a smile escaped his lips as his head grew silent. Preoccupied. And the smile widened when Rann saw the shadows disappear, and he adversary's true form became obvious and some form of....shield... replaced them. "You won't get anymore help. You and me. YOU AND ME. AAAGHHH." He screamed again as he charged at Nimue, gripping his lightsaber tight in his left arm. He wasn't familiar with this technique she was using. He didn't recall reading about it in the libraries of Vjun. Then again, that didn't surprise him. This was a defensive tactic, and Rann sought offensive. Ruthless aggression.

As he closed in on Nimue, ancient roots began tearing through the floors to attack or incapacitate him. He hopped, rolled, and sidestepped every one he could, drawing upon some of...his...finesse and skill to close the gap between them until one lucky root snagged his right, robotic arm, killing his momentum and yanking him back.

His eyes widened and he stared at the root angrily, then back at Nimue.

He flicked his lightsaber around, trying to keep the rest of the roots from surrounding him or entangling him as he felt his robotic arm become even more ensnared. As he struggled to think of what to do next outside his mind, inside his mind, Rann thought of anything, focusing all his attention to keep himself from freeing himself.

He tried to give Nimue the opportunity, now, to kill him. He just hoped He'd get Damsy's help to make it just a little bit easier.



​

 

[Damsy Callat]

B O N D E D​

Tags: Rann Thress Nimue​

Damsy pulled her shoulder further under cover as plasma cinders flew off the contacted durasteel.

"I'm sure you'll do great even with this interruption. I uh... I'm in some trouble. It doesn't look good."

"No-no offense, bro, but you have no idea how much bantha poodoo I'm in right -- NOW!" Flashes sparked again, this time from the other side, and again she scooted along the desk closer into the middle of cover.

A moment after the blasterfire let up, her blood went cold. Had she been shot? She didn't have to check before she knew: she hadn't and it didn't look good. Admittedly, she couldn't be sure of exactly what he found himself in the middle of, but if she suddenly felt an urge that made her want to vomit to help him, why, then it was at least more dangerous than her own engagement. Dismissing Rann now would reap dire consequences, his probable death paramount. Damsy was perfectly comfortable anywhere but Confederate, but if she ever met her father again, she didn't want to have to explain the how or why of complicity.

Damsy sighed heavily. But neither did he. They each stood about an equal chance to getting the other killed.

This wasn't going to go over well.

"I'll cover you," she said, determined. He only need tell her how.