Ephemeral

[Yidhra]

Because we're all just fleeting ghosts, breezing by before we even get a chance to live, she recalled the words her brother had once uttered; a lifetime ago, it seemed now, even if it was barely a decade. With a faint shake of her head, the Epicanthix shook the useless thoughts and reignited her hissing weapon. The blood-red light turned her beautiful features into a distorted, eerie mask of rage. A single decisive, powerful strike was all it took for the next training droid to succumb at her feet, and then she was off.

Smiting one construct after another, she let her sadness fuel the whirlwind of attacks, propelling herself through the training chamber. Rare was the swing that actually landed a hit, but they were so many and so fast that it didn't matter; Irina got them all without suffering so much as a scratch. When the last droid crumpled to the floor, reading out malfunction codes and droning 'Error!' in that metallic voice, the Sith felt exhaustion draw in. It was late, and she had been practicing for most of the day, neglecting all and any of her other needs. A change of pace in her training was direly necessary, and that day's evaluation only confirmed her concerns. "Schutta," the dark-haired woman muttered into smoke-filled air and waved her hand in a vain attempt to clear the fumes. "Damned droids and their machinery," Irina swore under her breath, her lamenting further strengthened by a few choice words in various galactic languages.

With a sigh she turned on her heels, ready to leave, when her eyes caught a glimpse of something; a flash of metal perhaps? Her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits as she reached out with her Force, gingerly probing the surroundings for anything worth her attention.

With a start, she retreated, pulling her consciousness back to her head completely and even retracing a few tentative steps she'd made in the direction of the unknown entity. Whatever – whoever, she corrected herself – it was, the being was indubitably powerful. Dark Force emanated off it in waves, each one like a tidal wave against the barriers of her mind that were nowhere near powerful enough to withstand incursion of such scale. In an effort to spare her precious, albeit questionable sanity, she shuffled towards the source of the darkness that was lurking somewhere in the obscured reaches of the vast training grounds.

When her silver eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light, a small gasp escaped her rosy lips. There, in the shadows, stood a Sith Master.

[Sorry it took so long, Apparatus. I do hope, though, that the introduction post is okay.]

 

[Soeht]

Walking through the halls near the training center, Darth Apparatus did not have a concern for the apprentices or one named Irina Tyvalla. However, Irina’s attempt to track down the passing Sith Lord caught his attention the moment her eyes locked onto his figure.

Once Darth Apparatus twisted his body slightly toward Irina, the dim light of the hall revealed that a crimson mask hid his face. There seemed to be no design as a face for it beyond two black openings for the Darth’s eyes to peer through. It was if several plates of metal were melded together to form it.

The black cloak that covered the rest of the Darth made it difficult to tell certainty in the little light available what the Darth’s dimensions were. Yet, he seemed to be large and bulky for a humanoid. Still, the naturally tall Epicanthrix before him appeared to match him in height.

Knowing that he had been pursued for some reason, Darth Apparatus awaited for some sort of contact from Irina beyond a minute gasp. Annoyance began to permeate in the air through the Force, though. His body continued to turn more toward Irina, with his feet taking steps to face her. If left without any word from the apprentice, it seemed as if the Darth would have either ignored her or outright attack her for just appearing before him unsummoned.

"Şp̸e̸ak," he commanded.

 

[Yidhra]

An involuntary shiver ran through her body at the slithering words and the Epicanthix barely managed to suppress a squeal of fear. Usually, she was the last to let go of composure and features carefully schooled to project whatever feeling was necessary; this once, however, she felt belittled and insignificant as the vast energy of the Sith washed over her. The power had her head swimming with nausea and aspirations of greatness, but somehow, Irina pulled herself together in time to answer the masked man – was he even a man? – before he turned her to ash.

"My Lord," she finally spoke, bowing in front of his imposing figure. "You grace my unworthy being with your mere presence," she continued, her instincts kicking in at last, and her words flowed freely, unbound by the fear that had settled deep in her bones; the Sith was making her queasy and unsteady on her feet, and she didn't like it in the least. What she did like, however, was the intoxicating strength wafting off the poised, obeisance-demanding personage. She wanted that, longed for it, coveted it.

A soft smile tugged at her lush red lips and she let it shine through despite the fact that she was afraid as hell. What did she have to lose? "Perhaps," she started, silver eyes glinting with something more than just hope, "you would honor this undeserving apprentice with your boundless wisdom, o Master?"

 

[Soeht]

Several seconds of silence passed after Irina’s request. During that time, the Darth fully turned toward the woman. Cold, bitter irritation rang through the Force. An answer to her request seemed to have been available to Irina before the Darth’s maw had to utter another corrupted word. Though, that was if she was able to sense it through the nigh paralyzing fear that possessed her.

“At҉ le̸asţ y̸o͝u re͟a̸l͝įze how̴ ͘t́r̨i͢v͟ia̸l͞ you a͜r͡e,” commented Darth Apparatus.

Upon uttering that sentence, Darth Apparatus slowly raised his left arm – bearing a black, metal gauntlet – toward the aspiring apprentice. Fingers curled as if grasping some invisible object. The dark side within the hall began to swell. An intangible noose began to wrap itself around Irina’s neck. Darth Apparatus refused Irina by attempting a Force Choke. If unimpeded, it would tighten and threaten to crush her throat and possibly lead to death.

“Ye̵t̸,̷ a͢s ̕you̴ s͏a̡id̴,̵ ͜y͘o͜u d͟eşe͠r̡ve ͞it n̕o̸t͜,” stated the Darth as he voiced his initial rejection.

Such was the typical response of those that requested power from the Sith Lord. Nothing personal of the Epicanthrix slighted the Darth beyond her asking for his strength. Also, as one could have inferred from past examples, this action served as the first of many unrelenting trials for those the pursued to know the full might of Darth Apparatus.

 

[Yidhra]

She felt his reverberate through her very flesh and bone, and it didn't feel good. She was no stranger to unpleasant sensations, though, having grown up on Nar Shaddaa and waitressed her way to near-adulthood, so she shook off the brittle cold and returned the gaze; even if it meant boring her silver eyes into nothing more than two dark slits in the red mask covering the whole of the Darth's face.

Of course, only a Sith would take her self-deprecating fake modesty literally. Go figure, she scowled inwardly, but kept the expression from crossing her features, realizing only a moment too late that the man could very well read her feeling like an open book. Just as well, a mental shrug accompanied the stray last thought before she was suddenly gasping for her very breath.

Her beautiful gray eyes snapped shut as she struggled, mouth open in a mute cry for freedom. Her hands instinctively reached for the Force squeezing her windpipe, but there was no way to pry at something that wasn't there. At the same time, she could feel every fiber of her being, pumping with adrenaline and blood, but the once-in-a-lifetime experience was completely dampened and trampled by the shattering fear that gripped at her heart. Her brain, already deprived of oxygen, struggled vainly to conjure some type of solution, every thought more sluggish than the previous. His hissing voice was drowned out by the frantic heartbeat drumming in her ears and when black spots came swimming into her vision, she knew she was spiraling towards the end.

With a last bout of resistance, she strained her taut body, kicking her powerful legs straight towards the Dark Lord's face.