Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Oblivion Challenge the Dead

Lark

Saint of the Damned
As Lark stepped foot into Oblivion after passing through Hypergate Florrum, he experienced one of those moments that changed the very foundations of one's mind for eternity. He had fought beings from other galaxies and realities, stepped foot into a realm that was akin to some mythological hellscape. And now, here he was again, stepping into a domain so far removed from the mote of dust he had been born on. What was this place? Could it really be truly understood? Could it be plotted on a map, were the stars in Oblivion the same as the ones in the galaxy Lark had grown so accustomed to? How did this place come into existence? An immortal scholar might spend their entire existence trying to determine these answers, and even then by the time the galaxy grew dim and dead they still might not have any answers.

Well, there's at least a certain beauty in the madness. Some of Oblivion was intimately familiar to Lark, and other aspects were as alien as light in the most abyssal ocean. There was a power here that he could not fully comprehend, and other meddling forces shrouding his perception. Something else seemed to be trying to speak with him, was it this Omni figure he had been warned of?

He gazed upon his new surroundings with the same joyous gaze that a child might have when they played in the forest behind their home, or when a historian studied some ancient artifact. How beautiful this story will be, he thought, wrapping his silk scarf around his neck. Lark had heard whispers that the dead wandered this land, and oh how eager he was to speak with those once though lost forever. Death was more his lover than life, there were so many lost dregs Lark wished to converse with one more time. Might he find his father, who so valiantly tried to keep his family intact? Or perhaps he'd find his mother, whose death was a result of his own words? His deceased master, whom he never truly received closure with. That flighty Zabrak likely toured these shallow shores. And how many people had Lark killed, that might come back to haunt him? It was like he was tossing a ball into a roulette wheel, and any number of possibilities lay before him.

For the moment, Lark stood alone. But soon he expected that another would join him, the younger sister of a woman that once saved his life. He had never met the young woman before, but he understood that they both had some sort of desire to speak to these lamented spirits. Perhaps together, they might find what they're searching for.

But Lark's goals were never really that simple. He'd start by seeking out some familiar dead man. But Omni would not evade his attention, just as Lark knew he could not escape Omni. He knew not whether he would fight for or against this godlike creature. But Omni gnawed at him like a rodent chewing into a bone.

And Lark would never grant peace to something so disgustingly vile.

Aliris Tremiru Aliris Tremiru
 

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To hell.

The idea should of been appalling to anyone who had a sense of decency or justice. Jedi, and their ilk. But Isari was no such being. Her family had toyed with death for centuries. Undeath, immortality, all manner of dark secrets. They touched upon this very hell time and time again. But now a gateway was open, and a new plane had been found. One ruled by machine no less.

That alone filled the young sorceress with interest. But, more importantly, the possibility of speaking with her late mother is what had her answer Lark Lark 's call. A man her sister once saved, huh? The traitor. What was this life that such a coward helped? It was yet another reason for her to arrive. The young woman stepped up towards the red haired man, Sith yellow eyes filled with a subtle anger. Of course Alina would save someone like him.

"So, when do we descend?"
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
Lark met Isari's gaze for a few moments, and in those drawn out seconds he could sense her quiet hatred towards him. In turn, he regarded her with a passive amusement. Younger siblings and Sith had one thing in common. Some semblance of hatred that spawned due to inferiority, envy, a desire for power, or some accomplishment that they couldn't hope to live towards. Lark didn't presume to guess what caused such feelings within Isari. He didn't much care. But he found it delightful that she held him within such a malevolent, disgusted stare. Such petty notions weren't worthy of concern. Sure, he'd rather the two be on friendly terms. Perhaps one day, they would be. Lark had a knack for getting people on his side. An enemy combatant that nearly sliced him in half and that he impaled, a Jedi who had every reason to hate him. Like a parasite Lark dug into their minds and made a soft spot for himself.

And so too did he have a genuine affection for them.

The trivial feelings of some vengeful apprentice were of no concern to Lark. He was in Oblivion to gain insight from dead men and to judge a god. Isari could either cooperate or find permanent residence with her mother. Lark would sleep soundly either way.

A shame my first moments spent in this ancient realm are with one filled with vitriol. But I suppose that can be amended.

Lark gazed into Isari's eyes for but a moment. His eyes wavered between heavenly and infernal, angelic and hellish. They were not kind, nor were they hateful. But they were uncomfortably understanding. He could toy with her. Say some mystic comment that might drive her mind into squalor. But Lark's spirit had gradually lifted in the past few months. Why waste such an opportunity?

"Well, I'm going now," he said in response to her question. "There are a great deal of lost souls I'll like to speak with, same as you I'm sure. I'd hate to waste any time." The very next moment Lark leapt from his perch atop the ridge, and slid down into the valley of souls the duo had been looking down upon. From what Lark understood, the realm of Oblivion loosely coincided with the same boundaries of the galaxy he was accustomed too. And so many of the ones he hoped to speak with perished within Sith space. Perhaps that meant they were nearby.

"I'm grateful you've joined me," Lark said with an aloof softness. This realm was new and exciting, ripe for adventure and tragedy alike. No one could know for certain what would transpire. Either way, Lark would have something to say about it all.

It would be nice to delve through the ordeal with a companion.

Aliris Tremiru Aliris Tremiru
 

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Ah, yes.

This was exactly the type of person Isari assumed her sister would save. Lark Lark would only receive an annoyed roll of the girls eyes before she slipped down to follow after him. Where they were going she had no intention of being alone. As annoying as she already found the man, she wasn't going to turn her back on any assistance. And from what she heard of him, he would be worth it.

"Yes, I'm sure." To her credit she tried her best not to sound completely annoyed this time. She had a similar mind, at least in terms of convenience. Better not to offend him and have to put him in his place when kinder words could have him watching her back. That was the sort of arrogance the Tremiru had after all.

"Whom I'm searching for can wait. Who of yours would you like to try and find first? I imagine there is some order to this chaos, in at least where the souls of the damned go."
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
As the duo descended down the mountainside, small figures began to come into view. Some wandered without purpose, others just lay dormant in the dust. Lark and Isari were among the first of the Sith to enter Oblivion, and from what he understood of the hypergates it was unlikely some other force used the Florrum fate to access this realm. No, these figures did not enter Oblivion through the hypergate. They entered it through death. These were the lost souls they sought, though would cosmic luck be in their favor? Among the innumerable dead, could they find the few individuals they sought? The Force had an odd way of guiding one where they needed to be. Already Lark could sense a hint of familiarity around him, though it wasn't clear enough for him to pinpoint who this individual was.

Or was this Omni trying to rope them into its schemes? He had been warned of these "Omni-Drones" that would try to convert him to their will. Lark had experience unwittingly serving as a pawn of some dark deity. He had little interest in playing such a role again.

"Oh, any number of people. My parents, perhaps. If only to receive some closure I never got once they passed. What were they thinking at the time? Or perhaps someone that lost their life when my hometown burned to ash. My former master might count himself among the number of damned here. Like your sister he too turned traitor, but my ill-will towards him has faded over time. I feel like I should speak with the man, at least once more."

After a few minutes of walking they reached the base of the mountain. A few souls looked at them with indifference, others ignored them entirely. Somewhere among them awaited a familiar soul. Lark smiled, warm enough to bring a bit of light to these lost dregs.

He had never spoken with a dead man before.

What a wonderful, momentous occasion this will be.

Aliris Tremiru Aliris Tremiru
 

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