Cannibal Carnival | CIS Dominion of Miranda [R-41]

[Alwine Daye]

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Location: By the dropships
Wearing: Obsidian type Strike Armor
Wielding: generic vibrosword
Tags: [member="Alora Fae"] [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

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Taramaz and Alora. Alwine nodded, having now names to attach to faces. And more important, she would have an easier way of calling one of them and having them understand who she was referring to. A name was always better than ‘you! Not you, the other you!’.

“I have been told it is just referred to as the Force,” she gently corrected Alora with a smile, as she looked at the flames, knowing exactly how the woman probably felt about it. It had been a new word to her as well not too long ago, a word that had given her relief, brought her the knowledge that she was not under the effect of evil gods, that her powers and abilities were not a sign of her unknowingly consorting with demons. Stewjon had been a horrible place. She would never set foot on it again.

Always working and enhancing the skills taught to her by [member="Caid Centurion"], Alwine ducked a millisecond before Taramaz shot, avoiding the direct splatter of zombie parts before they hit her head. Her face was tight and focused, but there was no panic on it. Not yet, anyway. She let the man do as he willed, always remaining alert, and straightened up only when he was done.

Words came then. At first they were simple enough to follow, but after a sentence or two Alwine began to frown, and by the end of the small speech she was looking at Alora with an expression that could most easily be translated into a do you know what this male is talking about? Because I don’t.

More locals were taken care of, and the Lupine wished she’d thought to bring an umbrella to protect herself from the body parts that were flying around.

And now they had to go.

“The direct path to the extraction point goes through Cale City,” she said as she brought up the holographic map, “we could take a detour if we wish to avoid the natives. But there are no guarantees that matters are safe beyond the city borders.”

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Post: 3
Objective: 3 - City of the Living (City of the Sane)
Wearing: Obsidian-Type Strike Armour, Knight's Obsidian Ring, Romanus Shield
Wielding: Obsidian Lightsaber, Mandalorian Heavy Pistol, K-406 Combat Ripper (On leather sash hung around torso) DXR6 Heavy Carbine (On back) Exalazorna-Class Folding Sword (In Dagger Sheath)
Theme: Wake the White Wolf - Metal
Tags: [Member=Alora Fae] [Member=Alwine Lechner]

He straightened up again, getting up, listening to the women.
"I agree with both of you, we should get moving. Though I don't believe we should have any problems with dealing with the natives. I'll follow you two."
He got ready to follow them, and reloaded his silenced sniper with the Yellow Tibanna Gas Canister he used, and then reloaded his Carbine with the Blue Tibanna Gas Canister. He then pushed a button, his shield opening up, and unsheathed his Exalazorna Folding Sword, in dagger mode, then pressed a button. The blade extended and he was ready to follow the lovely women.

 

[Aubrey King]

Location: Somewhere far from everyone else, night time.
Objective: Survive (BYOO)

"Don't run my darlings, bad for the flesh!"

"Arrgh! My fething leg! Feth!"

"ESKETIT!"

"Fenn, no! Wait, stop, we have to go back!"

"I told you not run! Now back with me, darling. Soon we'll all be together again."

"What the feth is wrong wi---aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!"

"Mmm...fat and sweet as a hog. My darling is so delectable!"

"ESKETIT!"

"No no...please no. No more please, no no no nooooo! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah--"​

Honey eyes snapped open as bloodcurdling screams ran through her head, but as soon as she was conscious it was gone. It had all been so vivid, running through a foggy forest from...something. She shook her head trying clear those wicked visions out of her mind.

Now there was only pitch black, and pain. She stiffened as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she realized she was strapped down to her seat, in half a cockpit that looked like it had been sheared off from the rest of the shuttle with a hacksaw.

So the crash had been real.

As soon as she shifted her body, she let out a yelp, feeling a sharp pain bloom in her left arm like wildfire. Either broken or dislocated, it was limp and useless for the moment.

A few moments after she had shrieked, she squirmed in her seat as it felt like something brushed against her ear. She wanted squirm but caught herself as it would make her bad arm light up in pain again.

Off in the distance, she heard a rustle. She froze, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. Something about her 'nightmare' had left her paranoid. The last thing she wanted was attention. Her stomach began to turn in knots.

Had she just doomed herself?

Part of her wanted to bolt immediately, but she kept still, listening out for any other signs of activity.

[member="Draven Dursden"]

 

[Drystan Marakos]

----------(Emergency)----------​

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----------(Collision Detected)----------​

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The Liberté-class Corvette's emergency power supply hummed, deep inside the bowels of the powerful starship. The damage to the Corvette was extensive; it's starboard engines had been entirely removed during the uncontrolled landing, and there were multiple hull fractures. A number of small fires burned uncontrollably within the vessel, and along the great rut the ship had carved into the earth, pieces of debris had been strewn about like the forgotten pieces of a child's plaything - it was remarkable the ship had survived at all.​

​

Unbeknownst to [member="Aubrey King"], fail-safe programs had been initialized, funneling power from the leaking reactor into the ship's Life-Support systems. Within the corvette's cargo area, a small number of protective metal cases came to life... Lights flickered as relays fired, but many of them went dark after a few moments. Only one, furthest from the heavy damage sustained by the crash, remained on.​

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Lit by flickering firelight, a single bank of monitors came to life.​

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The pod opened, spilling dim white light into the surrounding darkness. Within, a metallic skeleton stood motionless... lifeless... dark.​

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And then, the screen which made up the droid's facial features came to life.​

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~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

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Stepping from the wreckage of the utterly destroyed starship, a droid emerged, moving sure-footed through a tear in the hull. It stood close to two meters tall, and appeared to be in perfect condition - unlike it's fellows, it had survived the crash without a scratch. A soft whirring accompanied it's movements as bright blue "eyes" surveyed the wreckage. It said nothing, blinking once, as it scanned the area for life-forms. It's programming intact, it detected an injured friendly a short distance away. Hopping the short distance to the rough ground, it began to move in the direction of the cockpit. It approached the wreckage of the ship's piloting section from the rear, out of visual range... but it cared little, as it circled the craft, climbing aboard a section of the metallic structure and hauling itself up, to peek through the viewport.​

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"Hello." It said, spying the woman still trapped at the controls. "You have survived a crash. Do you require medical attention?"​

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The droid's melodic voice was purposefully designed to be calming, and contained not a hint of alarm.​

 

[Ye Hyonu]

Location: Somewhere unpleasant and upside down
Objective: Survive (BYOO)

Dim, but flashing lights lit up part of the shuttle. Whatever happened had sliced the shuttle into several pieces and the good doctor seemed to be spared or, so it seemed. Groans were heard from the man whose body hung somewhat lifeless from his seat. For once he put his seatbelt on, only from the harassment of the droid they had taken with them, before Hyonu figured out how to power it down.

A warm moisture collected at his hair line and dripped over his eyes, this caused him to wake up and stare at the ground as if he was floating. Eyes fluttered as he blinked with blurred vision, “Jenjang, where are my spectacles?” His throat ached as he spoke, and he wondered what would have caused that.

Hands patted down his chest until he found the glasses and slipped them on. A large crack moved down both lenses and he sighed heavily. It was in that instant that he looked down again and noticed he was several feet up in the air, feet dangling along with the seats beside him. “Oh OH?!” The Doctor wiggled about seeing that his seatbelt was caught, senses were returning, and he stopped. The trees rustled and it sounded like they were speaking, the Force cried out and blew against his face.

The stench of death lingered in the air and he paused, slowly his glasses slipped from his face. Hyonu didn’t both stopping it, only froze in terror as he realized that the shuttle they were in had crashed and he was stuck, upside down in a tree.

A tasty and spicy morsel he would become, probably a little fermented since he did love his kimchi.

[member="X-Ray-242"] [member="Aubrey King"]

 

[Malok]

Interacting With: [member="Eternal Flatulence"]
Accompanying: [member="Srina Talon"] | @Dianah Vi’dreya | [member="Darth Ivum"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | [member="Lirka Ka"]
Objective: Find Survivors

MEAT’S BACK ON THE MENU BOYS!

Darth Metus felt his heartbeat catch within his throat.

The burning sulfur of his gaze fell upon the blighted rabble. He could feel their hunger. Feel the madness which seemed to ooze from each one of their midst. But more so...out of his peripheral vision, he saw his son. His daughter. His Apprentice. Pillars of his life which meant more to him than all the riches in the Galaxy. More than infinite power. More than life everlasting. He knew that Miranda was dangerous...but this scenario he had not planned for. They were outnumbered; and though technology was on their side, the Sith was not comfortable in their “advantage.” The risk was enough that his mind raced, burning precious seconds as a response came to fruition.

His offhand thrust forward in defiance, compelling the Force to obey his command. His might did not shriek towards the onslaught of cannibals - not directly. Instead, his telekinetics paused about his Dauntless Commandos: borrowing, in tandem, their explosive ordnance. A gaggle of grenades briskly hovered up and primed, before launching into the oncoming horde. And just as his lightsaber awakened within his grasp, the ordnance shook the very ground. A cacophany of fragmentation grenades and thermal detonators went off within their advance, causing bodies to ragdoll through the air. Charred limbs began to rain. Anguished wails reached his ears.

Darth Metus moved. Pure instinct propelled him past the Dauntless Commandos - past his precious children and student - and directly into the throng of dazed cannibals. His armored subordinates began to let loose with their blasters, covering their liege with an unrelenting barrage of blaster fire. The Sith’s blade moved to finish what his grenades had started, striking down whatever cannibals which came within arm’s reach. Yet one was not fortunate enough to meet a swift demise. One found its throat within the Sith Lord’s crushing grasp. Where. Are. My. People.

Though his words seethed through clenched teeth, they were also a bellow through the Force. Those present would feel every syllable rattle about their skull as the Vicelord waited not for a verbal response. His presence invaded the feeble mind of the cannibal, sinking its hungry fingers into the poor sod’s troubled mind. The cannibal flailed in protest - screaming, clawing, and spitting to no avail. Darth Metus tore the information out - finding only a few flashes of memory that could be useful. The rest was blood. Blood, laughing, and torn flesh. Satisfied, the Sith gave his crushgaunt a squeeze, pulverizing the cannibal’s neck within his grasp.

”I know where they are. [member="Lirka Ka"], leave none of these vermin alive. Srina. Ivum. Dianah. Jaron. Stay close.”

With his order given, Darth Metus relied upon the first useful fragment to guide his steps. The Carosel which had been brought to a grinding halt by the little girl. His saber burned through whomever the Commandos or Lirka’s force did not strike down, until his boots thundered to a halt before the little one. She had brought them here. And by all rights, he felt as if her head was forfeit. But in the moment, she was...trying to get his attention. Trying to get him to draw near. ”You.” he seethed. ”Take me to them.” he demanded. But then he put in a way she would understand. He put it in the same “lingo” that the cannibal’s memory had provided. Their location?

”Leftovers. Show me the Leftovers.”

 

[Darth Metus]

Interacting With: [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Aurelia"]
Objective: Bring Down the House

As the golden fury of the Jedi’s blade began, a transmission erupted into his ear. Sable eyes narrowed as the focus of his “dance” was temporarily disrupted by the words of a woman he did not recognize. However. An ally in this hellscape was an ally - and thus his response was respectful. Brief, but respectful. ”We’re going to take the front. If you can, get in there and get any survivors out asap. I’m bringing this karking thing down.” The reality of his plan lined up significantly with what the Energy Vampire was thinking. While she would rely upon bombardment from above, Josiah Denko was much more of a hands-on type combatant. He would much prefer the satisfaction of watching the Big Top cave in on itself by the work of his own hands.

And so, with his request posed over the channel, the Jedi began to cut a path through the cannibals. What worked in his advantage was the pristine lack of technology that his adversaries possessed. They did not fire blasters. They did not have lightsabers - or even bonafide bladed weapons for that matter. The overwhelming majority of them had only their fists, nails, and teeth as a threat - while some had rocks or wood clutched into their hands. For the Jedi, they posed no true threat for him...and so every step converted the operation into a slaughter. Josiah Denko...did not hesitate with any of his swings.

For he did not see the cannibals as human. He did not see any of them as being able to be saved. They were monsters. Twisted. Broken beings that deserved to be put down. In the very rear of his mind, he could imagine the Sith Empire dispatching broken souls such as these on their battlefields. He could imagine his old adversary, Vulcanus, converting the shattered remains of conquered worlds into such creatures. And Josiah wouldn’t hesitate to cut through them to get to the former, Sith Emperor.

So he certainly would not hesitate here.

 

[Lirka Ka]

"As you say."

Lirka stomped her foot on the ground, the hard metal thing crashing against the floor of this place with enough of an echo. Nonsensical Sephi bits, as usual. But this one actually served enough of a purpose, from their shadowed positions her new Honor Guard formed up: Glaives raised and ready, that stomp was a summon. Now each of the worn and battered, but less so than when she had found them on Seltos, warriors advanced in around their queen. A mere 5 warriors in total against the horde of the deranged cannibal trash: these were not people to Lirka, they were cattle, cattle she was told to kill.

"Cor saes."

The words were, venomous, Lirka was not a strong force user by any means but she was a master on inflection: it was nigh the same as imbuing the force into those two words. What did they mean? It didn't matter, her warriors knew it by heart, and that was all that mattered: the queen commanded it.

But those handful of CIS members who had the grand honor of seeing such a display wouldn't have much a hard time determining what that disturbingly cold and stoic command was. In mere moments the slaughter began.

Each of the warrior's Glaives sprung to life, the plasma around their blades burning like a fire in the darkness of this world: a glowing emerald that seemed to
almost, almost, pierced the suffocating darkness of this world. They were masterful killrs, warriors that could indefinitely kill their Queen if they so desired: the poor fools didn't stand a chance. Lirka followed in after them, missing her Klaive dearly in a moment like this, but letting her raw anger at this world make her into what she was best at: a raw, indiscriminate killing machine.

They left behind them a great act of gore, screams, and severed limbs.

[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Eternal Flatulence"] [member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

The little girl didn’t like the sky people anymore. The sky people, two of them particularly, had attacked her own people. Sure, some of them were smelly, and some of them stole food they were not entitled to, and a few of them had tried to eat her, but that did not mean they deserved to go out like that!

She frowned, looking at the man who had led this unprovoked attack, who now demanded to know where the remains were. The little girl raised her chin to him, lower lip pouting in defiance. If she did as he asked, nay, demanded, he would just kill those who protected it, would kill those who had earned their right to eat them.

And he wanted it without having even touched the carousel. How rude.

Clutching her doll to her chest again, the girl looked at the big man, and shook her head. She would not take him anywhere now that he was killing her people. Killing her family. Even if some of them held more than one family title, like mother and cousin, or grandfather and brother. Family lines were strange on Miranda. But still. There was inner harmony among the residents of pandemonium, and he had broken that harmony.

She did not like him anymore.

Turning around, the little girl darted as fast as her state allowed her. She would hide in a secret crook on her own. Food would simple have to wait.

​

[member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Darth Ivum"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | [member="Lirka Ka"]​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

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Objective: City of the Living​

With: [member=Taramaz Laurs] | [member=Alwine Lechner]​

Post: Five​

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Learning Galactic basic was frustrating enough but when you had the word on the tip of your tongue, one missing link away from being right, there was no frustration like it. A bright, genuine smile lit up her face when Alwine gave her the correct word and she let a deep sigh leave her chest. While it was frustrating the satisfaction she gained from finally finding the word was equally so.

'The Force. Yes. Much thanks.'

The young wolf's reflexes were impressively quick, she ducked down so fast Alora hardly even noticed. They had spent little time together on Rishi, meeting up for a moment only to split off minutes later when given their orders. Alora didn't have any time to appreciate her skill or even get to know the extent of it, but from that one move alone Alora could tell she'd do well back home. That alone was enough to hold the fiery haired woman's attention. Alora fazed back into the conversation mid-way through Taramaz's rant, just in time to catch the look Alwine shot her.

It was a look Alora was all too familiar with and a look that only two foreign people could give one another when someone native was talking to quickly to keep up with. Alora threw her a similar look, twisting her face to match. Expressions were easy when her own reaction to something coincided with someone's else, it meant she could copy them straight from reputable source.

The blue tinged map flew up from and cast the group in a warm blue glow. Alora took three paces forward to get a closer look. There was a road leading right up to the city, to which Alwine pointed out that they'd probably run into some more of the locals. Alora couldn't help but agree. The feeling that had come over her was only growing stronger by the minute. If she weren't entirely aware of the fact that she was covered head to toe in thick red leather she would have been shivering violently.

'I am not knowing what is going on with those people, but they are not right. Not human like your eyes see and your mind wants to believe. I do not care of taking the direct path but we should all be keeping our eyes on every bodies backs.'

Alora gave them both a firm nod. She held them up only a minute longer, checking the tightness of the belts that held her leather armor to her body. Once all seemed satisfactory she began taking confident strides toward the city of Cale. She still had trouble working out how distances translated over from maps to the real world. The map was either too small or too big for her to visualize it in her head. Alora nodded toward Alwine, posing a question as they walked.

'Will it take much time?'

 

[Alwine Daye]

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Location: Making our way to the extraction point, going though Pandemonium first
Wearing: Obsidian type Strike Armor
Wielding: generic vibrosword
Tags: [member="Alora Fae"] [member="Taramaz Laurs"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"] [member="Darth Ivum"] [member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Lirka Ka"]

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Alwine nodded as Taramaz said he would follow the women. They were all in agreement; they had to move. However, before anything else was said or done, Alwine stared at his weapons. Shield, sword, dagger, button, blade. With the Knights Obsidian, she had traded it in for vibro and longswords.

While she was still undecided regarding her opinion about Taramaz, Alwine knew that she approved of the redhead. The glances exchanged between the women combined with the realization that she too was not entirely part of the galaxy’s mainstream gave her a sense of calmness with the woman. Later, she would question her regarding her origins. Nothing too deep, nothing that Alwine would not divulge regarding herself as well. But sadly, once more, now was not the time.

“A few miles to this direction,” she said as she pointed on her holomap, “but you are correct. We should protect the rear of the group that went ahead before us.”

Alwine sighed. Perhaps following the big group was the better route they could take. The main group consisted of battle-proven Force Users who would wade through the wrong smelling locals and thin them down, making matters potentially less unsafe for the three of them. Or if they were fast enough, perhaps they could make it to the big group and join forces, helping and being helped all at once.

“We go through the main city then,” Alwine said and turned her map off, pointing in the correct direction. As soon as the decision had become final, it seemed the stench of the planet had become worse to her Lupine sense of smell. Gods and Force, how she loathed it.

It was only a handful of minutes before they arrived near the borders of Pandemonium, the part of the city that had been closer to them than Cale City. From the distance there had been music and lights, but upon arrival, there was no more music, and the lights… Well. Alwine saw the locals running through them, chasing several of the people they had seen before. A few fights were going on as well.

“Well…” Alwine murmured, “this will be fun.”

 

[Darth Ivum]

Interacting With: [member="Eternal Flatulence"]
Accompanying: [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | [member="Lirka Ka"]
Objective: Find Survivors... And Kick Some Not-So Zombie Tail

Quite the... interesting turn of events, eh?

They'd followed this... girl to the carousel, where the horses were rusted and broken and the music was awfully distorted. These people, if they could be called such still milled idly about, though their eyes were naturally drawn towards the newcomers. He would have been blind and mute in all of his senses if he did not suspect any sort of trouble or conflict out to these lovely visitors.

The ringleader, a man with eyes of steel, a hat like that of the Mad Hatter, and clothes that looked like he'd been shredded instead of beheaded by the Queen of Hearts, shouted out with a thirst for blood and meat. In response, like moths to a flame, his followers surged forth to descend upon the group. They sought only to devour. He quickly assumed that they weren't the type to leave any part of the body to waste or rot in the dead soil that shifted underneath his boots as he darted forward to join the confrontation with his father.

A flick of his left wrist brought the cool metal of the black lightsaber to his hand from the holster on his hip. A simple push and the crimson blade ignited, arching over his head to cleave a nearby in two. He could feel and hear the blood pumping through his body as he stood still for but a moment. It was in this moment that he remembered why he loved combat so much. There was a connection - a balance - in the way his arm slashed and his body twirled to bring the weapon crashing down.

Oddly enough, the boy felt peace amongst the throng of battle and the hum of sabers.

But, the feeling of content was not to last. He needed to focus as he fought alongside his father. He smirked when he realized this was the first time he'd ever fought with Father, at all. It was interesting... certainly as invigorating as he oft imagined it would be. He chuckled deeply as he continued his onslaught as his father paused.

There were still plenty more Carnies to attend to.

 

[VildarnTentoria]

<From Betrayal on Seltos>

_________________

Cannibal Carnival
__________________

Objective: Carousel Throne
Goal: Rescue lost Miners
Post: 1
Location: Miranda
Time: Night

The stars on this world shone beautifully at night. Vildarn made his way across the fields with his accompanying battle droids. He had personally chosen to lead this search party and had not seen any other Confederates in some time. Of course every now and again he could have heard voices but that was probably just his imagination.

“Sir, we’re picking up life readings.” The Droid Commander said concerned.

“Sure is cold on this world, a different kind of cold.” Vildarn said pausing in his tracks. “Who’s there!”

Laughing and snickering came from the bushes around them. The battle droids formed a defensive circle around him. Vildarn turned as he heard something emerging from the bushes.

“We just want to talk...” came a voice that just didn’t sound normal.

Suddenly three individuals rushed out from different directions all st once. The droids gunned them down quickly before they got anywhere near them.

“You shouldn’t have done that, you’ve made us angry...” More of the beings charged from the bushes forcing a Vildarn to pull out his own blaster, where in the hell was he?

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Post: 4
Objective: 3 - City of the Living (City of the Sane)
Wearing: Obsidian-Type Strike Armour, Knight's Obsidian Ring, Romanus Shield
Wielding: Obsidian Lightsaber, Mandalorian Heavy Pistol, K-406 Combat Ripper (On leather sash hung around torso) DXR6 Heavy Carbine (On back) Exalazorna-Class Folding Sword (In Dagger Sheath)
Theme: Wake the White Wolf - Metal
Tags: [Member=Alora Fae] [Member=Alwine Lechner]

He pressed the button on the blade, extending it into a full sword. Then turned to look at Alwine and Alora "Fun time."

He ran forward holding his shield and sword in a Roman charging formation, charging down Locals/Cannibals. Then one of them grabbed him by his black cloak, that female then got lifted up, grabbing at her throat, gasping for air, as he held her in a fierce force choke, then threw her into a group, bowling them all over.

"STEEERIKE!" He grabbed a thermal detonator from his belt, primed it, then threw it at the group of bowled down Locals/Cannibals. Then whipped around, bashing a local in the head with his shield, leaving it stunned and dazed. He then it again, making the satisfying sound of bones crunching, he then grabbed it by it's head, slamming it into his knee, knocking it unconscious. Then stabbed it through it's heart.

By now his sword was covered in red blood, and it was splattered all over his armour and cloak, giving him an almost demonic look. He then grabbed his pistol from his belt with his shield hand and pulled it out, shooting several zombozos right between their eyes as they were running at him. He then ducked under the swing of one, throwing his sword up, and grabbed the creature's leg with his free hand. Yanking it out from under him, the sword falling back down right through the man's skull.

He then grabbed the sword, blasting a few more zombies, then hitting one on it's head with the handle of the pistol, and running a zombie through with his sword, then yanking it out, pressing the button. Once it had switched to dagger mode, he threw it, striking through a zombie's throat, and staying there, he then shoved his pistol back in it's holster, and ran over, tackling several zombies. He then yanked his dahher out of the zombie's throat, switching it into sword mode, and sliced a zombie that was ontop of him in half, spraying him with blood. As more and more zombies piled ontop of him, he curled his body up, then released it, floating in the air a bit. The zombies were all knocked off their feet and back atleast five metres, and he put his sword back into it's sheath, switching it to a dagger, and folded his shield up. His purple and red eyes went bloodshot, electrified, and berserk under his helmet.

His finger tips electrified a deadly shade of purple, sparking. He cast his hands out, his fingers curling, giving the zombies infront of him a nice tan, frying them. He'd created a wave of purple force lightning infront of him, keeping it that way, until the corpses of the zombies were smoking. He then stopped, and started force choking and grabbing zombies with the force and flinging them this way and that.

After a couple seconds, he'd had his fun with the force, he was soaked in blood and parts of zombies. He unclipped his sabre from his belt, and ignited the purplish hued blade, slicing through the few zombies that dared and managed to get close to him. He decapitated one, sliced another in half, then doing a swirl, sliding down to his feet, cutting their legs off. He then stamped his foot on the ground, screaming in pure anger, his skin getting paler, his veins getting darker and more visible under his skin, under his armour. The ground in an four metre radius became cratered, as if a pod or piece of a ship had landed in it, the zombies bones getting crushed or broken under the force, aswell as their vertebrae. His voice carried a couple metres infront of him, knocking three zombies back that were trying to rush him.

The ground around him electrified briefly, killing the zombies that were rendered paralysed. He then force leapt onto one of the zombies, stabbing through it's head. Then flipped his sabre upside down Starkiller style, and stabbed a zombie upward through it's stomach, into it's lungs, then it's heart. He then brought it around, decapitating a crawling zombie that was grasping at his legs.

He stood there panting, in a form of pure rage.

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: [member=Darth Metus] | [member=Srina Talon] | [member=Jaron Lesan] | [member=Darth Ivum] | [member=Lirka Ka]​

Post: Six​

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Dianah chuckled softly at her Father's words, replying teasingly.

'You were meant too.'

The group pushed on, following what Dianah could only describe as the walking dead. She seemed to lumber slowly, almost dragging her feet across the floor. Honestly, Dianah was desperate to hear her speak. Something about a child that didn't say a single word was more unnerving then the increasingly uncomfortable atmosphere. Before Dianah could focus too much on the ever growing sensation something came into her field of vision. A CAROUSEL! She hardly even noticed the rest of the people sneaking their way around the edges of the carnival. With no time to waste and not a thought in the Galaxy given to anything else Dianah charged forward to join the little demon child on the carnival ride.

The music, the lights, the creak of the rusty ride... despite how creepy it all was Dianah couldn't help herself. A ride was a ride after all. As the old ride kicked into gear, groaning as the internal cogs turned slowly, she flung herself onto the closest horse side-saddle style. Broken, discorded music filled her ears as she lent her head back to the breeze that picked up steadily with the speed of the merry-go-round. Once upon a time it must have been a unicorn, there was a long cone of metal sticking out from the top of its head. Dianah craned her neck to look at Jaron, twisting and turning it as the ride span round and round.

'When we move to Krant we have to get one of these!'

Even over the music Dianah could hear the howling screech the ringleader made. Meat's back on the menu? Were they the meat? She almost struggled to slide herself off the horse, very nearly tripping up once or twice on bits of peeling paint. There was just enough time to reach for her saber when the carousel came to a grinding halt. Dianah snapped her head in the direction of the controls, the demon child centering in her vision. Dianah was in two minds, when she glanced back at the group she'd arrived with they were defending themselves from the deadly assault. The only one that seemed to be paying attention was her Father and he made it clear what their next step was.

As always, he was too forceful and brutish to get what he wanted. Younger children needed to be addressed delicately, especially ones with a tendency to eat human flesh. Metus clearly didn't have the skill or the patience, as he'd often proved with his own children. Dianah tutted and rolled her eyes to the sky as the demon child darted off. She raised a caramel colored hand up to her Father and opened her mouth to speak quickly.

'Stay. You've never been very good with children. Help them defend. I'll be back soon...'

Dianah afforded herself one last look at Jaron and her elder brother, both had already gotten themselves stuck into the fighting by the looks of it. Maybe this would be a bonding moment between her three favorite men. A small smile crossed her expression for the briefest of seconds, before she turned to chase the demon child to wherever she was hiding.

 

[Jaron Lesan]

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Interacting With: [member="Eternal Flatulence"]​

Accompanying: [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Darth Ivum"] | [member="Lirka Ka"]​

WEARING: xxx​

Post: three​

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As the group continued on following the demon child, Jaron felt something heavy that was beyond the darkness of the planet they had touched upon. Dark eyes lifted and focused ahead to the man who led the party. It was him. The father. Jaron had met Metus before the Confederacy came about, before Jaron had realized the faults of the First Order. When he once felt they could change the galaxy, the two had met on a mission to recover dark artifacts on Endor. Metus had placed great faith in him back then, but this was different. He was being evaluated, and Jaron could feel it. What would he do? Jaron pushed his own presence against the man letting him know that he could feel him. ​

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"I have saved her and she has saved me," Jaron said telepathically to Metus as he pressed the memory of that day into Metus' mind. It had nearly killed him, but Jaron knew one truth even then. "I will spend every breath until my last on your daughter... I will perish long before she ever does." It was the one truth that Jaron knew, and the one truth that Metus was now aware of.​

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It was a truth that Jaron was going to get to prove it seemed as Dianah began to walk off. While the ringmaster had declared his sentiment, Dianah followed the girl along to a carousel. This was so typical of her to do, placing fun above her own well being. Granted she could take care of herself, but this situation reminded him too much about the one on Arbra, though they had more numbers this time.​

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"You can have whatever you want on Krant. The palace is going to be yours after all."​

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Jaron's eyes fluttered back to the group of cannibalistic creatures that were attacking, then back to Dianah's once more to see her chasing off after the girl. He cursed under his breath as the twin sabers he wielded came to life. Standing with Metus and Ivum, Jaron ensured that not one creature would be getting past them. He would not go after Dianah until every cannibal was dead, and he hoped that she would keep aware of her settings as he had taught her. She had been a good student when it came on how to be more discrete and use stealth to her advantage. He could only trust that she would know this was a time to remember everything. His concern... Naboo. Naboo had brought a change, one that they had not voiced to anyone. Naboo only made Jaron concerned for her well being even more than he already was.​

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He pressed into the fight, pushing the thoughts that were distracting him aside. The violent blade of the saber in his right hand passed through the neck of the first creature that attacked, and with a small pivot and flick of his wrist he cut through the one just behind it, exposing the creature's torso to the elements of the dark world. They would all fight until every last one was gone, and Maetus had found his people. Jaron hoped for the sake of those lost that Dianah could get through to the girl she had chased. ​

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

She could hear the noise of her people dying in the background. The little girl covered one ear with her hand and the other ear with her doll, not wanting to hear any of it. There was no reason to kill the people of Pandemonium, they were good people, but the people of Cale City didn’t like them because Caiders were liars and horrible and all wrong.

Not too far away from the Carousel, in the opposite direction of Cale City, were ships. Old ships. If the little girl could read, she would have known many of them had the words Silver Stars written on them in very old and very chipped ink. But she did not. What she did know, was that inside one of those ships was her home, and home was always safest. Everyone left you along when you were at home. There was a strange sense of honor among the people of Pandemonium and this was part of it.

Never looking back, never removing her hands and doll from the ears, the little girl slipped between the cracks and old ship panels, the soles of her shoes too thin to keep the pain from walking on old ship floors as she made her way through the dark interior halls all the way to the end.

“Ma-ma?” the girl asked, her voice hoarse, broken, in dire need of fluids.

[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Seven​

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Dianah streamed her way through the abandoned carnival. The only indication that she was going the right way were quick glimpses of the little girls dress as she ran round corners. She was tempted to reach out with the force and find her that way but the deranged cannibals living on the planet unsettled her, it was hard to pick anything specific out. As she ran, desperately trying to avoid tripping up on bits of rusty metal and debris, Dianah realized something. To the little girl this must be a slaughter. To her they were only hunting, gathering food, trying to survive... And here the CIS was completely up-heaving their lives. She almost felt sorry for them before she remembered they were all out to eat her flesh.

The old ships loomed in the distance, creaking and groaning under their ancient weight. Dianah watched the corner of a mucky white dress slip between the cracks in the hull. Of course it would have to be an abandoned ship, the creepiest places going. The crack wasn't big enough for Dianah to slip through, she toyed with the idea of shifting herself to squeeze past but decided against it. The little girl knew her as she was now, not something else. Dianah didn't want to take the chance of scaring her away again.

Instead she ignited "Bubbles", her trusty lightsaber. The pink glow lit up the surrounding area in a comical color as she sliced her way through the crumbling metal, just enough for her to slip through. Inside was even worse than outside. A smell clung to the old walls that permeated everything, the smell of death and decay.

"Ma-ma?"

The sound echoed around the empty ship, reverberating off the corners of Dianah's mind. It made her wince. She sounded so weak and broken, on the verge of death even. Creeping through the ship was easier said then done. There were a fair few obstacles that took her by surprise, not to mention there was something incredibly sticky on the floor that made lifting her already heavy beskar boots even harder. Not wanting to risk taking the youngling by surprise, Dianah called out into the empty void using a soft, sweet tone.

'Hello?'

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

The inside of the ship smelled somewhat sweet to the little girl, the lovely smell of home cooking. There was nothing on the stove though; it had been too long since they’d had anything but mushrooms and some of the grass that grew rampant on Miranda.

Despite that though, the girl found her mother standing in the kitchen. As she entered, the woman turned around and smiled at her little one. Both mother and daughter had many missing teeth, blood flowing out easily as wounds exploded and puss developed on their gums. The mother’s head suffered many bald spots, what few wispy things managing to grow having a sickly white shade. The cloth that covered the mother was of the same low grade as the daughter’s, moth eaten holes poking everywhere. There was poor. And then there was this.

The little girl flung into her mother’s arms, nestling in the familiar stink that was family and safety. She knew no other world, had never experienced anything else, and probably never would. There was but one life for those who lived on Miranda, and it began and ended in the same place.

At the sound of someone sounding a ‘hello?’ though, the mother urged the daughter to hide, and the little girl quickly made her way into the cupboard, leaving the door open just an inch.

The mother too one of her bigger knives. It was a rusty old thing, and it required a lot of handling before it could cut anything. But nothing was ever thrown away on Miranda. She would use it until it crumbled. And she would protect her child from anything that sounded like food with a mouth.

[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Eight​

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Her only saving grace in this entire ship was the violent fuchsia glow coming from her lightsaber. Dianah reached out with the force, though she was loathed too. When she opened herself up to the dark twisting nether she could feel everything. It took her a while to shift through it all to find what she was looking for. The life forms at the other end of the ship would be her beacon in this hellish place. One young girl and one older woman. Dianah guessed this was some kind of guardian for the demon child. Hopefully this wouldn't mean a fight, but she was ready if it did.

After stepping over a large sheet of metal that had peeled away from the wall Dianah found herself in a makeshift kitchen. Despite nothing being on the fire the smell of cooked meat hung in the air. Dianah didn't want to breath it in, all too aware of what it was. A woman stood in the center of it all, one giant knife in her hand that had turned orange with rust. It paled in comparison to the fizzing saber Dianah clutched in her right hand, but she had no intention of using it. Not unless she absolutely had too.

'I don't mean to invite myself into your... home? I'm looking for someone.'

She addressed the woman cautiously, entirely unsure if she could understand what she was saying. There had been no indication that the people on Miranda didn't speak Galactic basic, but then again there had been no mention of them being cannibals either. As a show of good faith Dianah raised her hands, dis-igniting the pink blade so they were plunged into relative darkness. The only light now came from the slowly dying fire.