Chaos Choreography [CIS Dominion | S-38]

[Shakti Sweet]

Location: Media Station, Neutral Space
Objective: Stay conscious and get off the Station
Tag: [member="Ephraim"]


It was obvious that the merc was doing his best to be gentle with her, but when he swept her up into his arms like some sort of hero from a fairytale, the pain that rocketed through her legs was... Brilliant. Light exploded across her vision and those arms that had wrapped around him to assist with his lifting took on a crushing force, her nails digging painfully into his arm and shoulder where her hands lay. Her teeth creaked as they clenched tightly enough to make her jaw ache and her head leaned back, the hood she'd had tucked up so tightly around her head fell back to reveal the shock of brilliant red hair. The tattoos that lined the lower half of her face were in stark relief against her burnished golden skin as she did her best not to writhe and squirm herself back onto the floor.

She didn't protest as he started to move, instead using all her focus to try and keep her legs still, and stopping herself from breaking her fingers by attempting to crush his armor. Every hurried step he took was agony, but the sounds coming through his helm were enough to distract her for only a moment. 'Massive worm - cast dead - Defoliator prepped.' Wonderful. Thankfully this stranger had seen fit to apologize by getting her arss off that ship - because she didn't fancy being vaporized into nothing. Even if each running step was fresh agony, it was better than the alternative.

Shakti only took a moment to really focus in on that pain once he'd gotten her settled into one of the escape pods. Her foot was a mess, the ankle was beginning to swell inside of her boot and they'd likely need to cut it away at this point. Her thigh on the other leg wasn't nearly as bad, but she could only imagine what amazing colours the bruises were going to be by the time she had a chance to peel off those pants. This man was extremely lucky that she needed his assistance to get clear of the station as things stood... Because the thought of crushing that stupidly concerned look into his face was so visceral that her hands quivered slightly.

She leaned her head back against the chair that he'd dropped her into and closed her eyes tightly as he took the controls and navigated them free from the station. The jostling and vibrations from the ship were enough to make her feel a little light-headed, but she took the few minutes of downtime to breathe deeply and tried to sort out what it might mean that she was now most likely in Confederate hands... With any luck, they'd fix her up and let her go... But since she was captured on a vessel that had been attacked near their space, and she'd been running around like an idiot... Most likely there would be questions that she needed to answer - and speaking of which...

As Ephraim came back to stand before her, she leveled a glare at him that could have struck a lesser man dead. She didn't bother to try and speak into his mind since he wasn't doing his strange hand movements this time, instead, she lifted her right hand a motioned at him with six sharp gestures.

A closed fist with the thumb wrapped around the front (S), her forefinger and middle finger extended straight out and hand tilted to the side (H), another closed fist, this time with the thumb beside the clenched fingers (A), her hand turned upward, her forefinger and middle finger extended but separate, the tip of her thumb peeking up between the two (K), a closed fist, her thumb tucked up between fore and middle fingers (T), and one extended pinky finger (I).

She frowned at him as she took that hand and motioned to his chest, asking that he return the favor.

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Darth Metus"], [member="Muad Dib"]

From his vantage point Daxton saw the mandalorian go down into the beasts maw, and could not help but admire the tactical ingenuity of the move. After all the creature probably wasnt as well protected inside as it was on the outside.

Switching tactics, he dropped several beams that he was using as blungeons wrapped his Force tentacles around the creatures face and maw. Each extension was like a hissing slithering beast powered by hate and Dark Sith energy, constantly trained and harnessed in the theater of war. The tentacles working in unison could envelop a medium starship in low orbit and either yank it out of the air or crush it as the invisible coils constricted, as they did now all along the creature’s face and mouth. Squeezing and squeezing until it popped in a meaty explosion of gore, blood and teeth.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

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Wearing: Outfit (sans wings) | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: One Czerka Knife, Concealed in her Hair | 2 Czerka Knives, concealed under the dress | Fire (Concealed under the dress)
Tags: [member="Darth Metus"] @Valencia @Hadley Ephraim [member="Calum Neth"] [member="Veronika Fleischer"] [member="Muad Dib"]
Location: Dance Floor

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"You get the civilians out of here!" Madalena responded to [member="Calum Neth"] with a wide grin as she hoked her skirt up, revealing some of the knives that had been hidden underneath. One knife was grabbed with each hand, and she flashed him another smile, "I've got a big butt ugly worm to kill!"

By then, she saw him disappear into stage right, and she launched forward, unable to keep from noticing that it was mostly men telling mostly women to get to safety. The Pathfinder rolled her eyes hard, moving forward among the crowd that was trying to make their way out. Usually, she fought with boots, a full armor set, and enough weapons to arm a small village. Now she had high heels on, a short skirt, a single lightsaber, and a bunch of knives.

Problem? Nah!

Thing was though, that it seemed that pretty much everyone had attacked the big stupid worm. She saw [member="Muad Dib"] jumping right into it. "Hey, I was gonna do that," the Sithling pouted. After all, she'd killed a dragon in a similar style. Was she going to have to attack the man to defend her own honor?

Madalena sighed. She could see the Vicelord attack it too, and another Knight Obsidian, [member="Daxton Bane"].

What was a girl to do?

Still grinning, Madalena jumped into the air, landing on the worm's back. Her thick thighs clenched, keeping her position on top of the worm as secured as possible, and she began to stab the thing. Perhaps, if she did it enough times, she would manage to remove its head before the others managed to kill it.

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

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The entire thing had been broadcast on live holovision. People in the Southern Systems as well as the rest of the galaxy had watched with wide eyes from their homes as what had begun as a season finale of a dance show, had turned into a blood shed bath of worms and guts.

The giant worm had been dispatched. Was it because [member="Muad Dib"] had destroyed it from the inside? Was it because [member="Darth Metus"] ' attacks of the Darkside had done it in? Was it for another reason? It was uncertain, but it did not take too long for the worm to drop, sending massive amounts of dust and debris flying everywhere.

The cameras turned to [member="Veronika Fleischer"], knowing the celebrity would know how to deliver a punch line to the audiences at home.

When all was said and done, the Confederacy would claim the space ship as their own. Words were sent out that it was up for grabs; any Confederate who was interested in turning it to a training station or a trade hub could apply for the position to do so, and the Confederate Government would announce who got the job.

Until then, there was still clean up to do; brain sucking worms to remove, a space station to fumigate, and dead dancers' families to contact. It wasn't, after all, something that the producer, Chad McChadstone, was around to do.

But what neither of the people present knew, was that one of the people who had watched the events unfold from the comfort of their own home, was currently stroking the top of the head of a bald cat's, nodding in satisfaction. "Yes… They have performed well," the person said, their voice barely an audible hiss, "we can initiate the next stage. The Confederacy will suffer."

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While the base story of the dominion is over, you are more than welcome to continue to RP out your personal story.​

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Happy RP'ing!​

 

[Kasca Fen]

Objective: Dance! Everyone is watching!​

Location: Media Station, Neutral Space​

Wearing: Backless Dress with a side slit that is almost indecent and these shoes​

“I’ll get right on that lady.” (Kas)

Kasca finished her fireball off with a flourish and watched the beast.... get kicked? She was stunned. Her mouth dropped open. The beast was a giant worm with a mouth impossibly full of teeth and Kas's answer to killing it was to kick it? The thing probably didn't even feel it. She was so stunned, that she had not exactly noticed the tail as it came up through the hole it had made. The monster swished it around hoping to crush the irritant and the thing that burned it's mouth and caused it significant pain. It's tongue lolled, a crispy husk of what it used to be.

She was pulled, much to her surprise, out of the way of the tail's first thrashing attempt at swatting the two combatants. She laughed and spared a glance at the man who complimented her dress amid the chaos. It was strange to see someone so cavalier about possible death by giant worm. "Thanks." She ducked with them as a chair came flying. They were dancing, of a sorts and even somehow working together. Had Kasca known she was on camera, she might have felt the anxiety of being in the public eye, but her concerns were far more important than what other people were seeing.

“Any more advice,” he asked. She shook her head. "You didn't take my first advice. I doubt I should give you seconds."

Kasca took a moment to take in the scene. [member="Daxton Bane"] was fighting the monster by hitting it with things his tentacles? were grabbing. And then [member="Muad Dib"] was throwing himself down the recently burned maw of the creature. Now, that was what she had meant when she had said to give it indigestion. Because of her spell, it did not close its teeth on the Mandalorian. He was able to slide down into its mouth without damage. It roared in frustration, unable to close its mouth and apparently getting torn apart from the inside.

And then [member="Darth Metus"] decided to blow through the thing and tear it apart. She could feel the dark energy building up within him like a crackle of heat upon her skin. Then [member="Scherezade deWinter"], the woman she now knew as Madalena, jumped on top of it in a fit of wild abandon. It seemed the worm was no more than a toy to the people who attacked it; entertainment in the same way and perhaps more than the dance competition had been.

Kasca laughed softly, holding up her hand to bring forth a shield to protect herself and [member="Kas Varad"] from the fall of the worm and the subsequent wave of debris. "Well that was fun." she said to him. Her eyes turned to her master and hoped he was proud of her this day.

Veronika Fleischer | Calum Neth | Valencia Hadley ​

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Kasca Fen"], [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Muad Dib"]

Working in unison the Confederacy dispatched the creature with great fanfare and gore, Daxton slowly released his death grip from his Force Tenacles as he clenched and unclenched his fists as he breathed raggedly through his mouth. The sheer amount of power he utilized had agitated the orbalisk colony and they sunk deeper into his exposed flesh, the skin ripping apart and blood oozing from multiple wounds as his body knit itself together.

Never a painless process to begin with, he knew he could not dull the pain with drugs as the venom would simply burn it out of his system, offering no succor what so ever. He could only grit his teeth as he tried to remain upright, only to collapse to his knees from the sheer pain.

With visibly shaking hands, he lifted the highly reflective faceplate of his helmet and took a deep breath of recycled air charred with ion energy and roasted flesh before emptying his stomach for several minutes before regaining control of his body.

With an outstreched hand he summoned his three sabers back befoe reaching for a silver flask and downing its contents in one gulp to wash away the bitter taste and clear his head.

 

[Alexander]

Location: Media Station, Neutral Space​

Objective: Dancing in the Streets!​

Wearing: The Usual​

Tag: [member="Shakti Sweet"]​

She was hurting.

When it came to the woman of fiery hair, the Ghost had to give credit where it was due. At a glance, the woman could have been mistaken for meek. She was smaller than the mercenary-turned-Knight by a large margin; and as an extension of this fact, she was quite easy to carry. But, the way her gaze fell upon him at the outset of their journey to safety...well, it told him something important. Although her voice had been stolen long before their meeting, Ephraim was of the opinion that, if she had it, she would have been silent. Her jaw was set in such a way that, though wounded, he could tell that there was multitudes of fight within the woman. She was a by-product of something alright. One was not simply born into this world tough as nails - pressure cultivated strength.

Wasn't that the damn truth. For but a moment, he spared a thought to the place called Home. To that gilded world where succeeding just was not good enough. Every facet of life was a battle. A struggle to be the absolute pinnacle, lest there be disappointment brought upon the family name. Let alone the fact that his moth-her nails brought him back to reality. Though she was certainly tough as nails, the woman of fiery hair was not invincible. The fact that she was nestled within his arms was testament enough of this fact. And, on occasion, if his footsteps came down just a little too hard, her vicegrip upon his form would react defensively against the pain it caused. Her nails would bypass the material of his Strike Armor in order to leave a stinging reminder to take her into consideration a bit more.

In time, he did manage to get her into the escape pod with minimal incident. And upon their launch, they had room to breath. There was ample time between the pod being ejected into the black of space and the launch of the defoliators for them to have a moment to breath. In fact, just as the detonations began, the fiery haired woman captured his attention with a simple means of communication. The way she moved her hands was a universal language utilized predominantly to make up for the lack of verbal or hearing ability. However, militant forces put a spin on this language in order to effectively communicate in total silence. Though it had been quite some time since Ephraim had been mandated to study the language of hand signs, he understood. It took him a moment to string the letters in his mind, for his mind was accessing memories that had collected dust.

But when it was all said and done, a smile adorned his lips. "Shakti." he said. "Well ain't that Sweet."

He then enclosed the index finger and thumb of his dominant hand, whilst extending the remainder of the digits. This formed a letter that she would recognize as F. He then lowered the letter, pointing his three extended fingers towards her and holding the enclosed fingers like a teacup. He then raised and lowered his hand, as if sipping upon said teacup. If memory served, this was a very literal way of saying Fruit or Fruitful depending upon connotation. And, as the literal meaning of his name - Ephraim - that was how he had decided to indicate himself to his squadmates a lifetime ago. He was certain that she would understand the meaning of his sign, yet coupled his motion with: "My name is Ephraim. But you can call me…" he repeated Fruitful once more.

Then, a light shudder rocked the pod as they docked with the nearest Confederate vessel. The hiss of fresh oxygen would reach their ears - roaring over the release of defoliators which would slam into the lower levels of the Media station at rapid intervals. The plague of worms would die as Ephraim's comrades arrived to ensure that they would live. As the pod was opened, he made a hasty explanation that Shakti was a civilian he saved aboard and needed medical attention. This was a boldfaced lie, mostly, but he did say he would get her out of harm's way. This was making good on that promise. In but a few moments time, Shakti would find herself transitioned onto a repulsor-cart and hovered down the hall to the sick bay.

And Fruitful would be walking right beside her along the way. There was no way in hell he'd unleash the ferocious one onto his comrades without backup.