Private Transcosmic Black (Pom)

[Darth Carnifex]

The Crestfallen dipped low below the clouds, it's shadow darting across the barren wasteland like one of the great chirodactyls. Red light saturated the black-hulled shuttle as it swooped into a deep ravine, passing through an opening in the rock wall virtually impossible to view from the top of the gorge. Nimbly navigating the winding rock corridors, the Crestfallen suddenly found itself in the bowels of a massive cavern. Below was a seemingly endless subterranean sea, stretching far into the dark beyond where the light of a hidden fortress carved into the sheer cliff-face of the cavern reached.

Settling down in the fortress' courtyard, a pair of crimson robed Nightsisters approached from within the dilapidated stronghold. They inclined their heads as the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Carnifex, descended the boarding ramp. He was wreathed in terrible majesty, the darkness of Dathomir calling out to Him; singing it's siren song. The two Nightsisters heard it and knew that their Fanged God had come again, once more to bless them with new life.

Stalking through the ancient fortress, the Dark Lord's fixation bade Him disregard all around Him. He had come for only one, and only she would be worthy enough to meet His gaze. He passed through catacombs entombed with the dead of countless eons, through chambers that had not seen the light of day in thousands of years. This was the domain of the Dark Side, seething beneath the surface of the galaxy.

When He at last reached her, He paused and waited in silence. Other sisters of the coven, the most loyal among them, watched from the distant shadows.

"It has been some time, Great Mother."

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

His distinct and glorious Force Signature would be the only alien presence invited to cross the barrier of the undead sentinels, who at his initial arrival stirred in their place of rest momentarily, preparing to rise before slipping once again unto their ethereal slumber. How the Nightsisters across the ages had toiled in depth to fortify Dathomir of what exists today as her natural defenses. Pomsty's lair, inherited from the Wanica who possess her and which is yet undiscovered by most, was swept over by invigoration upon his approach. He has ever been her link to the dawn of revival, a new era, into an existence beyond all that history had birthed for the Nightsisters. Some did not agree with her alliance, but Pomsty welcomed the conjoining of forces. Her deepest secrets to survival still lie hidden in her practiced knowledge, magick which has never yet been conjured, but harboring a complete comprehension of their extensive physics. Such magick, she most certainly prays she will never need to utilize. In union with the Sith, Pomsty sees a long fruitful future, and the Nightsisters are breeding to once again become a formidable force. The Sith provide a security of endurance through the existence of the unlocked Warlock's Gate. They feed the Nightsisters' innate desire to further understanding of power, while not truly attainable, a steadfast learning toward someday attaining satiety, and keep all a step ahead of off-worlders, as the Great Sith Lord himself insists upon existing. Most of all, it does not go without recognition, that the Sith Lord personally offers enlightenment.

The Nightsister always toyed with mankind's innate desires. She personified herself as one worthy of conquest. Having lost interest in her previous affections, her lust for grandeur only magnified. Her private thoughts for Carnifex made her to feel like a fool, yet outwardly she always carried herself respectfully. She would only gush over him in private, and stand off to the side while in the presence of others.

His sudden presence struck the Matriarch's heart cords. The swish of fluttering feet and skirts brushing against the castle floors reached her ears, as her handmaidens scurried to align themselves along the path to her reception room, and curtseyed deep before the embodiment of their god as he passed by them. His disregard to take in their beauty pleased her. She knew the truth of Darth Carnifex 's accomplishments, for she had been present when he subjugated the Fanged God unto Pomsty herself, and linked his powers to her through her Onyx locket, which now attempted to snuff out the glow of the moonstone sheen of her skin. It vibrated and hummed an eerie tune of agonizing cries upon Carnifex's approach to her throne, one haunted, as it was fashioned out of the very bones of the first Dark Lord who the Nightsisters had culled ages before her time.

The twelve ancestors who co-exist with her, stirred vibrantly in spirit, rendering her eyes a glisten as her cloak bustled as if carried on a short wind gust. She gripped the armrest and rose from her elevated rest. Kindred emotions poured from the deep soul link of his eyes, even as he approached from afar. Her spirit swam amidst the powers which he held bound within his essence. It was rare he would come here to her, outside of formal congregation. She suspected he might, since she had received his apprentice Kaila Irons with open arms, a spiritually lost girl looking for a true home.

A passion only he could stir, ignited as he addressed her. His emotional state she picked up on, did not seem to reveal him upset with her…at this moment.​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

They approached one another until both were right in front of the other, His shadow engulfing her in it's totality. All that He was; rage, hatred, violence, cruelty, swirled about Him like a malevolent storm. Few could brave such a tempest, but the Great Mother did so without difficulty. She pierced the thick miasma of darkness that encompassed the Dark Lord like a shroud, standing before Him without trepidation; devoid of fear. Though she was much smaller than the Sith warlord, she nonetheless stood tall of her own accord.

Reaching out with both hands, the Dark Lord of the Sith cupped the body of Pom Stych Tivé with intimate familiarity. "My dearest Pom, how my spirit soars to bask in your presence once more. It has been too long since I have delved beneath Dathomir's hallowed ground. Many tribulations have kept me from your side, but now I am here to again partake of your devotion." The Fanged God given flesh smiled predatorily, His caress of the Great Mother's body intensifying as they drank in each other's presence.

"But pleasure is not the only driving force that brings me here, Great Mother. The girl was drawn to this world, you know of whom I speak. Though I have entrusted her with responsibility and authority, I have come to suspect that her integrity wavers from the righteous path. The Empress shares my concern, she does not wish to see her faith so disastrously misplaced. I would ask to know what she spoke of with you, if you would allow me to know." He would never force her to reveal anything to Him, His affection ran too deep for that sort of malice.

"And if you believe that her path can be righted."

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pomsty's eyes flashed with playfulness while he voiced his affections, and her lips curled into a subtle satisfying smile at his present proximity, mostly his promise to improve upon it.

She emitted a passionate Purr before answering his concerns. "Was my lord overwhelmed by his worship in the Bone Temple last witching hour?" She knew how hard the coven tried to appease him while she tended to Kaila Irons ' concerns. She would never believe it, if it were so, that the effort of the entire lot of them just did not measure up to her presence as High Priestess.

Now, towards perhaps every other man alive, with exception of their Uncle, Darth Prazutis , this Mistress is a callous misandrist. Regarding her lord, she never cast a single stank eye his way. The Matriarch's eyes twirled as she regarded the truth for just a moment. "I did make a promise to another of my sisters," she said. She promised not to share Kaila's secrets when she had welcomed Kaila to continue to come to learn from the Nightsisters, even though the young woman's knowledge of Magick is seriously stunted at this time. Pomsty felt that should Kaila one day earn eternal life, surely she will catch up to the other witches in time! In all honesty, she suspected Darth Carnifex already knew what had transpired between Kaila and the Wanica 13. Then Pomsty wondered if perhaps he had lost his mental connection to what had transpired during the Wanica's trek with Kaila away from Dathomir to visit The Fates while he remained inside the Bone Temple.

"Love," she purred once more, as she turned away from him. She raised a hand to magickally raise him a proper chair out of the glittering dust of the ground floor, gesturing him to sit beside her throne.

The Wanica had gone about helping Carnifex's apprentice, only to learn that Carnifex was the cause of his apprentice's amnesia. When Pomsty learned this about Kaila's past, as told under the magick of The Fates, she secretly stopped the Incantation.

After careful consideration for her words, she shared, "I returned to the young woman an inkling of her sense of self. You cannot command loyalty of an empty and longing heart. While she is an asset to the Sith Order, and dutiful to her position, perhaps her idea of a righteous path is not in alignment with your own. The stars may have another path planned for her. I can only guess…that she does not love our ways with the same intensity as those among your inner circle."

Pomsty gently placed her hands into his. "You always bid me freedom to advance my own desires." Pomsty wondered for a brief moment just who she would have become had Carnifex stripped her of her nature, as he had Kaila. Why instead had Carnifex decided to help Pomsty grow, to elevate her position? She did not know the reason behind his actions against Kaila, and hopes he would not be angry with the fact that she acted opposing something he had done.

"I found myself feeling quite saddened for her profound sense of loss and confusion." She shook her head in regret and further explained, "I thought how she could never be perfect at anything, walking around as lost as she was, and hopeless."

Kaila's true loyalties eluded the Matriarch, but Pomsty honestly does hope that the young woman who came to her does value her genuine acceptance to learn among the Nightsisters. Carnifex voiced that he perceived questionable intuitive feelings about his apprentice. Pomsty answered, "I have no inkling regarding her true loyalties as of yet, although I promised to teach her magick skills that will surely help her evolve. A glimpse into her past was all I saw. I cannot see into her future, but I think she has more potential to blossom now that she has uncovered a portion of her being once again."

Whether or not Carnifex will be agreeable with Pomsty's past actions, remain to be known.
​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord took His seat upon the throne brought into existence by the Nightmother's hand, taking her hands into His own as He listened in quiet reception. When she had finished, the Dark Lord did not speak for a moment. Instead, He bent down to kiss the knuckles of her hands, drawing them up to His lips to make the gesture easier. Even for a monster such as He, there yet kindled an ember of romanticism left within the cold halls of His blackened heart.

"The girl had no future, not until I carved one for her. She descends from the Mandalorian Clans that I had granted succor after the fall of Mandalore, she was one of the many tithed to the Empire to serve in our armies. When that fool Australis botched his reclamation of Mandalore, I liquidated the tribes that remained. Her family died that day." He spoke of this without any emotion, delivered with the same cadence as one would when regarding typical weather patterns.

"She would have died that day as well, had her potential in the Force not be discovered. What use was her past then? It is dead to her, as it was then as it is now. She chases only ghosts." Little did anyone know, the Dark Lord kept a copy of those exact memories in His databank aboard the Malsheem, the Dark Lord was loathe to discard any tool. Even now, it could still prove useful to His designs.

"You were not wrong to bring her in, my love. I would not deny you that choice. She can still be steered along the correct path."

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

She knew the name of the man whom Darth Carnifex regarded. In fact Pom had faced the warrior alone. She had waltzed in unannounced, and unleashed a rather witty arsenal of magick upon his city even under the Force void protections of Ysalamiri, her actions vital enough to earn the Alor's compliance. He had earned her respect for surprisingly following through with her demands without bloodshed.

The Nightsister had told the truth to Carnifex indeed, although incomplete…with a slight twist. His gentleness with her, bore a hole through her heart. She stood up right there on her throne and faced him, peering into the eyes of the one soul who shows her so much tenderness amidst warping from the Darkside…where she finds her Home. She would unburden her soul to him.

"Even so, I must ask your forgiveness," she began, penitent. "I was enticed to uphold an old ethical code. The Nightsisters have always assisted those who manage to survive the scourge of the land, in order to reach their door. The holy land itself, permitted your apprentice to succeed. In acceptance of her, I had put her needs above your better judgement. My guilt is that she had told me directly, that she suspected you of the deed which ailed her." Regardless of what her next line would elicit, his Mistress further explained, "I wanted to draw your attention."

Look at what Pom's decision shall cost! But isn't that just how the Sith play at life, afterall?
​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"In the end, it matters not. We shall see what comes of her foolishness."

Still, her insistence that she receive His forgiveness was convincing. He drew her close to Him, again, letting her body fit into the contour of His. Lips would find eager purchase, hands intertwined as the Dark Lord bestowed upon her not only His forgiveness, but His passion as well. The dark powers of the Sith and the ancient magicks of the Nightsisters flowed readily between them, the world of Dathomir responding to their union as a lunar eclipse took shape overhead.

He looked into her eyes, drinking in the sharp beauty of her features. "Speak no more of forgiveness, my love. Know only my dark embrace, and accept the power of the Fanged God." Euphemisms aside, the Dark Lord truly had no need to be angry or cross with the Nightmother. She had done as her culture demanded, something He would have done had the situations been reversed. Being Epicanthix meant incorporating the practices of those would conquered, and had the Dark Lord not conquered the Nightsisters when He took Dathomir from the Mandalorians?

In truth, did He not have the right to count Himself as Nightbrother?

No, He would not be restrained by their matriarchal practices, He was subservient to no one. He was the Fanged God, and the Nightsisters owed Him their worship. But, for the time being, He was well-contented to receive the dark communion of Pom Stych Tivé.

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

She never had a private meeting with Darth Carnifex that was not passionate. She felt connected with every aspect of himself that he shared with her. He had inspired her very evolution into the Nightsister she is today. She gave him everything he had ever asked of her in return for this. He had showered her with a hefty generosity since the onset of their relationship. Because of him, she was able to unlock many secrets to the Physics of nature, to satisfy her hunger for insight and dedication to her studies, often sparked by focus questions found inside dusty journals long left untouched and stuffed into the rear of his vast array of coveted books upon deep library shelves to which he had granted her free access. She learned new things, and she shared her newfound abilities with him. He also protected her, their children, and her precious Dathomir. She never minded that he held many secrets. She also knew that he lived a life of absolute security, where he could do away with what or who no longer suits him for whatever purpose he felt need. Never did her mind so much as fleetingly fantasize that she would ever make a decision which would result in her failing him. She just had not thought ahead regarding the incident with Kaila Irons. Pom's jealousy had gotten the best of her, when she had hoped to always mindfully honor her word to Carnifex most of all.

He did not just forgive her…he ignored that a transgression had ever occurred at all.

She locked onto his eyes, and saw in him a side that had gone unnoticed by her before now. He bestowed mercy upon her, and did not demand she suffer to repay him for it. She wondered if maybe, this grace had always been offered to her. Still, she could not escape the thought that something had changed between them. Something deeply emotional clicked into place. She suddenly realized how much she desperately missed him, even while she was the one who parted from his side to come to Dathomir.

She became conscious of her own breath as she suddenly felt more acute to the sensation rendered by the closeness of his presence. Her thoughts next became attuned to both their hearts' beating. The depth of the Darkside of the Force which naturally envelops him overtook her visual perception of the physical world. Magick unfurled from the depths of his shared gaze, and into his gaze she felt herself falling. She stepped into his mind and walked through the many doors to his memories, as his soul suddenly unveiled the last of his mysteries to her. She learned that he needs her, just as much as he needs the others. He needs her to soothe the beast inside. As much as she needs his strength, he needs her tenderness. She felt realized he allowed himself to become vulnerable, as much as she herself felt when in his presence.

She felt herself falling, a familiar sensation which she became aware had been her truth for quite some time. She had always said she wouldn't allow herself to truly ever love a man, and yet the degree of her jealousy should have been proof enough to the contrary.

The Darkness, into which she is so comfortable being steeped, shifted from her perception, and she sensed the presence of someone so incredibly beautiful, someone who knew deep seeded suffering, nestled deep within his core being, sheltered from suffering further anguish.

"It's ok," she said because she understood. She remains by his side, because she wants to, because she loves him.

For the first time ever, Pomstychtivé saw his need, and she poured her spirit into his, to fortify the core of her Dark Lord with her Magick.
​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Their union was powerful, it radiated out to the other Nightsisters around them; all of them enthralled by the darkness of their covenant. Passion and violence intermingled, virtually indistinguishable from one another. When it had all come to an end, the Dark Lord sat contemplatively with His back resting against one of the temple's pillars. Only a shawl of black cloaked His muscular body, which was coated with a thin sheen of sweat. Around Him, the resting bodies of the Nightsisters were arrayed out like the beams of a spoked sun.

Only Pom Stych Tivé remained by His side, nestled into the contours of His body, His shawl partially covering her as well. He held her close to Him, their hearts beating in solid rhythm as the air was punctuated only by the soft undulations of their breathing. His hand slipped down to rub against her stomach, fingers tracing intricate patterns across her marble white skin.

"May this new disciple of the Fanged God quicken and take root, so that our covenant may endure for all time."

He leaned in and kissed her hair, His own locks cascading down across her face like a veil. In the darkness of the bone temple, the Fanged God and His bride held one another in silence and shadow, surrounded by the slumbering silhouettes of their worshipers. All while the ichor of Dathomir roiled like ocean waves around them, turbulent waters given life by the dark union that had come to pass.

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

The depth of his communion was completely understood by her. Their expression of passion drew the attention of many who had long been trapped in singularity of thought, self woes of the departed to be specific. Souls of the discorporated who had forgotten that life could expand beyond themselves, and blossom into any fashion, provided the ability or the will were simply recognized within them. The eternal abyss which shadowed the Nightsister Queen quaked under the sudden appearance of power which compounded with the massive dark forces that seem so customarily commonplace to the Dark Lord of the Damned, PomStychTivé's beloved Darth Carnifex .

The spirits of Nightsisters long deceased, encroached hidden behind the veil, upon the newly sparked life their Lord did bid into existence within the belly of his mate. Their fanged smiles portrayed their long woeful hunger to be touched by their god, each hopeful to be welcome into the Wanica Thirteen, now thirteen times thirteen in number suddenly tore back the veil of their restless and utterly useless afterlife, their faces filling all the area Pom's eyes could see. The Matriarch saw the souls and their willingness to trade her justly, as her original twelve Late Matriarchal ancestors had done. She sat upright and peered back at them, a subtle curl formed upon her lip.

A new covenant shall indeed be forged! For knowledge and power, her flesh she would exchange. The single soul would welcome more into her legion.

PomStychTivé slightly tilt back her head and merely opened her mouth, as every entity which filled the throne room rushed forward like independent plumes of roiling black smoke. Each dove head first to join forces with the ruling soul of their chosen Matriarch.

The voices of thirteen inside her head, multiplied beyond tolerance at first. Soon she had them all settled into one will, one voice…her voice…her rule. She looked again at her betrothed and after another quirky smile, she feasted upon him like one who had literally been famished for thousands upon thousands of years, a worshipping fit for their god.
​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The power of one became the power of two, and then the power of many. Passions inflamed, body and spirit commingling, the Dark Lord directed the bounteous symphony at His fingertips. The power of the Dark Side flowed ever freely, mixed with the eldritch ichor of Dathomir, a stream of dark energy rushing forth from His spirit; connecting all other spirits and tethering them to Him. As the Fanged God, He lorded over His covenant with supreme authority, and onto them He blessed them with a new flock.

By the powers ethereal He spun the threads of darkness, sewing into each Nightsister a pearl of shadow. In time, they would grow and manifest themselves as new supplicants for the coven to raise and to teach. Such was the prize they desired, one He was all too willing to bestow upon them. When time came again to renew their covenant, He would bless them once more with a new flock, and a new flock beyond that, and again more multitudes.

For now, with His labors complete, the Dark Lord sequestered Himself with the Night Mother. He doted on her with His full, rapt attention, allowing their quiet sanctum to become the center of His universe if but for an evening and night. She was His confidant, the bearer of many secrets. She bore witness to a facet of the Dark Lord few others have seen, and it was hers alone to safeguard. He held her close, gracing her skin with idle kisses of devotion.

"The galaxy shifts, can you feel it?"

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

The new life he gave her to carry had been blessed by all with a plethora of ancient Magick from the newcomers. Their child began his first moments in life within her womb suckling upon the darkside of the Force! Pom felt Blessed in it.

To be alone with him in this manner she feels a unity often too profoundly moving to tolerate. So many life-forces are often surrounding her, for her protection, and in awe of the great magnitude of abilities she now harbors for them all to engage, that time explicitly alone with him is actually quite rare an occasion.

She felt something different than before in his presence, something far more significant between them. It seems he parted the stars for her this night, and drew the Force down from them, pooling it close enough to touch with her fingertips.

"I feel it," she answered him, when he regarded the anomaly. With a smile on her face, she asked him in return, "What have you done, my love?"


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