Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dark Wings, Dark Words [Cryax]

Malcom listened in silence as the sith rambled on about pain. The torture was perhaps less painful that this mans constant rambling. Then the torture started again the knife going in again and malcom realised that he was wrong the torture was the worst part. He screamed and threw his head around again as the sith continued his 'art'. God he felt like crap blood seeping out from cuts across his chest no doubt coating in red. Still the rambling continued. He collapsed back in exhaustion as the latest pattern drew to a close. He sighed he had no words how did he respond to these psychotic ramblings. He was right about one thing though, Malcom would have his vengeance ... one day, one day he would break this sith and he would enjoy it. Cryax would no doubt want revenge as well. The only question was would could they do? How do you beat a man who wields such power? Would could they possibly have to compete with a man who could do all this?

He was feeling really faint now, he'd lost a lot of blood and his homesickness was only getting worse. He really wanted his Cry. He needed a hug and a lifetime worth of T.L.C. He groaned and fought back the urge to vomit, if he vomited he'd have to open his eyes and if he opened his eyes he'd faint. He doubted that this sith would take kindly to him faining. The the sounds of sloshing joined in with the thudding in his ears. A symphony of pain and it made his head hurt. Then he felt stings all over his body, syringes. He didn't want to think about those. The new synthetic blood did take the edge of his nausea but no doubt that would come at a high cost. Atleast he wouldn't die ... atleast he hoped he wouldn't.

He couldn't think of anything to say to the siths last point either what did one say in response to statements like that. How could malcom ever come to revel in pain?
It made him feel sick.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]
[member="Cryax Bane"]
 
"I must admit, you're holding up better than he did."

Another cut there, the blade carving easily through flesh as a hot knife through butter as another inscription was quickly marked down on Malcom's chest. This third cipher would bleed more profusely than the others most likely due to the fact that Malcom now had a constant stream of new blood pumping into his system to replace what had been lost, and now it was pumping directly to the flesh wounds before the blood could coagulate enough to stem the tide. "Just one more," he purred, "Just one more and then the real fun can begin, because I've had quite a bit of time to reflect on what sort of punishment would be suitable for a worm like Cryax and I think I've finally figured it out." He began to cut into the skin right above Malcom's bellybutton, the final inscription quickly materialized across his pale flesh as the dagger moved ever so nimbly.

Once it was completed Vornskr took a step back to look upon his finished work, a ritual circle carved right into Malcom's chest rather than in the ground or on a more solid surface. "Your thoughts betray you, Malcom, for I can easily sense your compassion for Cryax just as easily as I can see you holding back the urge to spew the contents of your stomach all over your chest... And that compassion will be your unmaking, for I have completed the circle of binding that will bind you to him so intimately." The words were venom and before Malcom could even fully grasp what the Sith Lord truly meant he unleashed a outpouring of Sith Lightning from his blood-soaked hands directly into the cuts inflicted upon Malcom all while chanting a sinister incantation in a long forgotten tongue.

T͡ų̵͠'̧̛͢i̵͡yi̡͝͞ą͘͠ ́̕͟a̕͜ŕ͡i͞͏k̵͘͡a ҉tu̢͠t͝i̸͠ ̶̡da҉̛t̶a̢̧͞r̵̵̡ ̛m̴ì̧r͜j҉̧͝i̢͞ ̷͝͏a̵҉͜n͜͠͞ ͜͠͡d͞͏zi͏̧ ̧̛͜a̴n҉̛i̴͜ ̷͢͝d̡͝i͢͟â ҉̴̡ąn̨͜͢ ̴̛k͘i̴̶,̢͡ ̡͟d̡҉i̵͟â͠ ̵i̡̧͜s̢͢ ͡s̨͝͝i̵͜s̷̢͝ ͘͠d̴̴oriz̀a̕ ̷͡j̵͢'͢͞u͡s̡͟ ́͠t̢qi̡ w͞i̷n͡҉͏wi̕͢ az͏uria ̕͜͝ą̴w͢͡it͢s̀û͟,҉ ̸̧͏ka̸̴d͟͝ ͘͝d́͡o̵r҉̸̕u҉͝ ̢͡t̸̷qi̵ ҉̶zi͘n͟o̵͠t̨͢i ̵̢k̡a͢͠k̶̛d̶̷i̕j͘s̶̷ì͡.͏́͟

The runes in Malcom's flesh would glow a dull maroon and begin to burn as the dark magicks invoked by Vornskr began to reshape them into more coherent symbols that inked themselves permanently into his flesh. At the exact same time Cryax would feel a similar pain as the runes once forged into his blue flesh began to burn despite the synthetic flesh that replaced them, their taint never fully expiring despite the Chiss' efforts. And the longer they stayed apart the more suffering they both would endure, and thus was their curse to bear so long as they lived.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]
 
If Malcom had handled torture better than Cryax just how much must his beautiful blue companion have suffered. Because malcom was not taking torture well.

Then it was back to the cutting, his flesh seeming to split effortlessly beneath the sith's vile knife as another inscription was marked into his flesh. This mark seemed to be losing blood far faster, sending a sicking warmth running over his chest and yet new blood kept coming dragging the pain out. An endless cycle: Bleed, feel faint, new blood , feel sick, repeat . This new blood was preventing his cuts from sealing. It might have been keeping him alive but good he felt crap. Then the sith purred, was it truly the last one ? or was it just more torment ? Then the sith continued they were to move onto the real fun. That sounded ominous, malcom gulped and pressed his eyes tighter. It sounded like this sith wanted to really hurt Cryax and that likely meant malcom was going to be returning to the Chiss either dead or broken into tiny pieces. Malcom didn't want that ...mind he didn't want any of this. Before he had time to dwell however the knife returned speeding through his skin putting one last mark into his pale skin.

He breathed out as the sith stepped back, he kept his eyes closed. Kaine might want to look but malcom did not. Malcom finally reflecting over the torture, why had the sith gone to such trouble? Why the intricate marks? He wasn't about to ask the sith. It wasted time and energy and he needed to recover. The sith rambled on returning to talk about Cryax, how Malcom longed to be in the blue man's arms again. He never tried to hide his love for Cyax and he couldn't hide his urge to vomit. If loving Cry made him weak then he was weak . This sith continued, talking of rituals Malcom was finding it hard to concentrate and he was further confused. Bind him to Cryax intimately, what could that mean?

His questions were consumed by the noise of his own screaming though as he convulsed. Electricity shooting through his body and the savage cuts in his flesh burning as the man's horrid speech stabbed at his mind. The flesh started to contort sealing the slashes. The bleeding was stopped to malcom's relief but it really karking hurt. Even when the spell was finished the burn continued. dull in his chest. Malcom lay still for a secound in a pool of his own blood the thud of the synthetic blood entering him. Could it be over? He was relieved but he couldn't bear to trust to hope.

"Are you finished with me my lord? Can I return to Cryax? " He whimpered, he really needed his chiss.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Darth Vornskr"]
 
He chuckled and waved his right hand, the shackles holding Malcom down popping free and allowing the tortured man to collapse to the blood-soaked floor. "Crawl back to him, sniveling worm. Your new existence awaits..." He laughed again as the door leading to the featureless hallway opening up, allowing Malcom to depart to scramble back to the cell where Cryax still languished whenever he wished. Vornskr would only watch Malcom as he left, a cruel grin splitting his face as a chortle seemed stuck in his throat. A hooded servant slowly shambled up behind the Sith Lord, his face obscured by a mask and tall pointed hood made of heavy purple linen. Vornskr only half regarded the cretin, "Reset the chamber, I have much more work to do." The servant bowed and went about his business, leaving the Sith Lord to contemplate his thoughts.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]
 
Malcom finally opened his eyes as he felt the shackles open releasing his sore wrists and ankles. He eased his arms down to his sides his shoulders slightly stiff. Then he sat up ith a pained groan he had to leave before this sith changed his mind. Then he swung his legs over the side of the slab, his head still thumping and swimming in nausea. Finally after taking several moments to steel himself and stop the room from spinning before he eased himself to the floor, agony shooting up his knee as he fell against the slab. He remained against the slab for a few moments before pushing away with a grunt to limp into the corridor. He finally breathed a sigh of relief as he fell against the wall. It was over, he just had to get back to cryax then the Chiss would make all the pain go away.

He made slow progress along the corridor but did finally reached the cell where his darling man remained. He collapsed through the door his knee finally giving in plunging him to the floor with a yelp. He didn't waste anytime however and immediately crawled to hug against cryax again the burning in his chest starting to ease. "Oh Cry" He sighed weakly nuzzling his head in the blue man's neck. Finally allowing himself to weep gently. shaking a little in the Chiss's arms.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]
[member="Cryax Bane"]
 
Cryax’s muscles ached, his face smarted from the poison eating into his skin like burning acid, and he was tired of being insulted by Darth Vornskr. As the Chiss was pinned to the wall and forced to endure Kaine’s hot, fetid breath in his face, outwardly he grimaced but inwardly, swore revenge. He would get vengeance on Kaine Zambrano or else die trying and finally right all of these wrongs inflicted on him. He used to be a prominent crime lord, feared by half the Outer Rim. Rivals used to run when they saw him coming down the street with a blaster rifle cocked. Now? He fodder for political satire on the Holonews. Something had to give. And give it soon would.

Darth Vornskr was too good for his words, so Bane was silently flung across the room. He hit the wall of the cell with a dull crunch. Eyes closed, there the Chiss stayed, letting the cold floor caress his check as he listened to the Sith Lord’s footfalls fade away.

-----------------------------------------------

A sharp cry escaped his lips as a stinging pain jolted him awake. Whatever was happening to Malcom made the phantom ancient runes once sliced into Cryax’s flesh sing with agony. Face twisting, he squinted one eye open just in time to see Malcom come stumbling into the cell, naked and carved, just like Cryax himself had been all those years ago. As Malcom folded into his arms, he wrapped them around his lover, careful not to inflame the fresh runes. As he kissed Malcom sweetly on the forehead, a blue-hand reached up to thread through the other man's sweat-soaked hair.

“Oh Malcom. What has he done to you, ch'eo ch'acah?”

He didn’t really need to ask.

[member="Malcom Langly"] [member="Darth Vornskr"]
 
Malcom nuzzled deeper into cryax shoulder, tears warm as he finally let go. He felt safe again now as the chiss enveloped him in a tight embrace. Warm, safe and comfortable. He felt a soft kiss pressed to his forehead briefly making the thudding stop. Malcom smiled weakly at the sensation of Cryax's hands in his hair, making his whole head tingle. That was better the reward for all the pain he'd been through. He groaned in pain and hugged even closer. He wanted to go home now, would they be allowed to return home to Cry's bed.

"Cut me .... hurt ... I don't really know ... said something about binding us closer " He felt so weak

He couldn't really recall what was went on, he didn't want to think about it

"Please don't let go " He begged.

He never wanted to give up the warmth of Cryax's body ever again.

"Will you carry me home, my knee hurts ... all hurts ... wanna sleep"
 

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