Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Fight, Run, Or Die [TSA]​
“Sometimes a god must allow what he hates to accomplish that which he loves.”

They scream, screaming ever still. Louder, louder and louder their screaming grows in manic spires of tenacity. I am running, running but where? My heart is pounding against my chest, readily to rip through my bones if it could beat any faster, any harder. I am running but I do not know where, and I feel them coming. I can feel them coming. So I run. My legs are burning, engulfed in hellish fires of Tartarus scorned by Hades. His face flashes by in an instance, my heart skips a beat out of terrorized fear. Wicked grin stretched across black lips with chilled whispers of beckoning demise. Run, run faster – faster and faster. Where am I going? My body is on fire.

There is a presence surrounding black void chasm with watchful eyes staring all around. Silence be-weds in white noise of nothingness in maddening hum. Pools of Amethyst unravel beneath dark lashes, quickly shut tight by the burning, sharp pains of migraine fever. Heart beat drums within her ears beneath the silence, breath weighted upon fearful stir. This pain came swiftly, and yet knew not why. Stomach churns in nausea, as she stares emptily into the void of her own reality. Intestinal burning forces yellow bile from emptied abdomen to vomit from her jowls What in the seven hells-- Mind racing, effortless Blake trying to combine two and two but could never find the answer of four. Fear lamented her shoulders. Her voice did not carry an echo trapped in a nothingness.

You are weak. Pathetic. Usssselesssss.
No Matter How Hard You Try

Serpentine hiss growled in many as if several entities surrounded her body. Disillusion and hallucinations triggered further scaling her schizoid madness. Gasp hitched from dark lips, golden eyes flashing like embers in the night as they staggered within her sockets trying to decide which way to run but -… her body did not move. Lips parted to speak yet no words were able to expel from her breath, tongue-tied and twisted.

And then...reality bled back through. A pair of fingers inches from her face as they snapped audibly within her ears. Jumping a bit and flicking her gaze upward at the lunch lady who seemed rather bothered.

"Ya gonna get something or ya gonna stand there like a karkin droid?" She asked abruptly, making Blake glance back down to see the selection of trays given to the academy acolytes...

It was happening again...the daymares...random lapses with reality that seemed to real, so vivid that she could not distinguish them from reality. They were becoming more frequent and much more debilitating than before...especially since her training had begun. The runic markings along her left arm would whisper to her...deliver upon her body pain so incomprehensible that she often had to lock herself away just to deal with the pain.

Still, it seemed as if she was causing quite the hold up. Thus she simply grabbed the nearest tray and continued down the line as she muttered an apology quietly. Moving away from the line and making her way towards one of the empty tables and taking a seat...brushing her tray aside and burying her face into her hands and taking a deep, deep breath. Rubbing her eyes violently before looking up through the sloppy strands of hair strung within her visage.

She just needed to settle down...eventually the voices and the pain would subside...after all, nothing last forever.


| [member="Krest"] |
Different Sith needed different lessons. Just like flowers, there were different ways to treat them. Some needed only a little attention. Some water, some food, and left alone to mature on their own. Others needed a careful hand to cultivate them into the perfect specimen they could become. Others needed pruning. The dead weight needed to be cut free so the healthy and strong could survive. But it was not as easy to see some of the dead in the Sith. Just like a broken branch who's leaves wouldn't brown until it was too late, the only way to find the hidden in need of pruning was to search.

[member="Blake Morrigan"] was one of them.

Within the lunch room the elder Zabrak leaned against the wall just beside the exit with his eyes shut. To many, this would be a normal instance. Krest was known to be laid back, almost lazy, slouching any where he could and even taking a nap. None bothered to disturb him as he was still a Sith Lord, but many simply assumed what he wanted them to assume. He was the least threatening Lord the Ascendancy had to offer.

But as he leaned under this false lazy demeanor, he watched Morrigan. Through the Force he felt her, her memories, her pain and fear. Her feelings betrayed her, and Krest could feel them. The Zabrak would make no move against her, not until she left, but he would send whispers in the Force. Whispers of a pained future. Of death. Enough that Blake could feel these terrible emotions, but not enough that she would be able to pinpoint where they came from.

Soon, he would learn if she was in need of pruning.
Delicate fingers would comb through raven locks as the womans golden gaze wandered over the populated cafeteria...the hustle and bustle ringing in her ears as the girl breathed rather heavily. Slicking her hair back and allowing her wrist to rest upon her neck while she looked over the contents of her tray...Nothing looked very appetizing to her...but the training she had to endure demanded energy and she would not get it any other way.

Reaching down grabbing the crimson red fruit of an apple the woman took a single bite, a bored expression written all over her face and lifting her hand to rubbing her temple. The voices subsiding and allowing her a brief moment of peace...or as close to pace as she could get in a cafeteria bustling with other Acolytes.

Maybe she was better off just eating in her own a brief nod, Blake stood from her eat, taking her tray and placing it on another table in case anyone else wanted need to waste it. She did however keep the apple, taking another bite and making her way to the exit...

But as she did...a feeling washed over her and overrode her senses...a feeling that she was...very familiar with...


Blake sighed, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes. "I need a spa day..." She uttered to herself, shaking off these sensations and continuing onward to the exit.

Krest would remain still even as [member="Blake Morrigan"] would pass by, but his eyes would open just a bit. A red glare would follow the woman until she was out of view, and only then would he move. He would follow her at a distance, his hands still in his pockets. It wasn't until they were a distance from the cafeteria that he would finally act. A deep rumble would fill the air as he reached out in the Force to crush around her throat.

"Blake Morrigan, a broken stem. I'm here to remove you."
Blake entered the hall...her mind troubled and her gaze on the floor as she rubbed her thumb along the crimson surface of the fruit within her hand. Raven locks hanging before her golden gaze as the young woman moved through the somewhat populated halls of the academy. Her gaze wandered for a moment, catching brief glimpses of other Acolytes as they passed her by as if she were going against the current...

Always alone on her seemed everything was only a reminder of how alone she truly was...

Still, this would make her stronger right? All this pain, all this would pay off right?

It had to pay off...

She took a breath and mentally agreed. Lifting the apple to take a bite when a voice rung from behind her...

"Blake Morrigan, a broken stem. I'm here to remove you."

Her eyes widened. Pressure around her neck closing like a noose as she dropped the apple and reached for her neck...struggling to breathe Blake quickly fell to her knees and looked over her shoulder at the man who stood a few feet behind the girl...

Was he...really going to kill her?


Yes...of course he was. She did not belong here...he was thinning the herd and it only made sense he'd start with her...

Regardless. She was not going to go quietly. If she was going to die she was going to die with a struggle. The way he choked reminded her of that day...and as the memories of that day flooded into her mind she could not help but to cry...yes...she cried.

She cried tears of pain...

And this man would she felt. And as another Acolyte passed them by Blake glared at his Lightsaber...dangling at the hilt as he strolled by.

Blake took a moment to focus...letting her fear and panic take a side-seat as the acolyte passed by Krest who remained behind her...and just as he did...just as he walked by him Blakes focus on the Saber intensified and with a single forced gesture of her head Blake threw herself to her feet, grabbing the apple on the floor and turning around to throw it at Krest while at the same time, grabbing the Acolytes lightsaber through the force and pulling upon it...flinging the hilt towards Krest's back as the apple spiraled towards him...and just as the two objects converged upon their targets the golden eyed girl triggered the Lightsaber to activate...mere inches from Krest back...

This was easy. Too easy. [member="Blake Morrigan"] fell to her knees and cried, enveloping herself in her painful memories. It was disappointing. Krest had killed many acolytes in his time as Lord, removing the spineless and weak from the ranks of true Sith. It was a job the Zabrak took no pleasure in, and he had every intention of ending the womans pain as quick as possible. But she chose to fight back. To live. Death is the end. No wonder they struggle so much.

He had pulled his hand free from his pocket to finish her before she could do anything more when the Force whispered to him. All at once the pressure around her throat would fade. As the apple and the saber came to connect on both sides the Sith twisted and bent, letting the apple pass by his body. The fruit wasn't a danger, the plasma blade that had just ignited was.

Krest had bent over in a bow, as if to let the saber pass over his back harmlessly, but this wasn't his first time dealing with the telekinetic grasp of another. Instead of just trusting that Blake would try to retrieve the saber rather than change it's direction to cut him in half he would grab the hilt with his free hand. Once the cool metal of the saber rested in his palm Krest ran forward, swinging the blade upwards for her knelt form.
The release on her throat was released after she had made her move but Blake was certain she would only have one chance to adjust herself...and as the Sith Lord before her snatched the Lightsaber out of the air after ducking it her gaze tightened, her mind racing with the number of possibilities of what would happen next...and when he dashed towards her and positioned the saber beneath him to swipe upward Blake threw her head upward and arched her back. The humming of the blade hissing in her ears as the blake whisked through the flesh of her left eye, slashing through the first layers of skin and just barely missing her eye.

She grunted from the pain, falling onto her back and rolling over her head and back onto her feet, standing up and backpedaling as she grabbed her own Lightsaber and triggered it, the red blade spitting out of the hilt as she closed the eye which he had practically blinded with the blade. Clenching her jaw, Blake planted a foot behind her and held her ground, readying herself for assault as her gaze focused on the man before her.

She could not make a move seeing as he'd likely counter...her only option for now was hard defense and least until she could figure out a way to get out of this mess.
Immediately Krest rushed in after [member="Blake Morrigan"] , keeping to her left. Years of experience had taught the elder to exploit the weaknesses of his foes, including the ones he made. As quick as he could he lashed out, the borrowed red blade burning through the air in a deadly thrust. His red eyes glared through narrow slits, focused on Blake and all her actions. A cornered mouse could still fight. Desperate tactics, anything to survive. To the Lord, she was an animal, and needed to be put down.



Krest's eyes may of been focused on her...

But Blake...Blake had something he probably did not. Something not many truly had. Some could do it, but few on the level in which she could.

The ability to multitask. To focus on a number of things at the same time without losing track of ones self. This was her one and only advantage, her one and only way out. And when he went to swipe from her left side Blake huffed, swinging her saber to the same direction and parrying his strike, using her other hand to pushing her hand outward at the same time...summoning the force to...pull him...closer to her. And with his forward momentum being gathered through his constant advance and assault the sudden pull forward would throw him off balance, being pulled by his chest his legs would be left behind and if this was successful, Blake would then push her body forward as well, spinning her self over and deactivating her Lightsaber, and allowing his body to fall closer, his previous swing, added with the momentum of her pulling his body would force the swing to continue despite the temporary block she had made.

She would duck herself down over his arm once she was close, twisting her body sideways and making her counter, blasting her elbow upward and over herself to land directly onto his nose, this strike while not doing much damage to a warrior like him would daze his senses and allow her to lead into her second strike. She would then attempt to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him over her smaller body and throw her opposite of herself. If this was successful, she would then back away and attempt to put some distance between them. Holding her eye and huffing painfully as the mark upon her arm began to react to all of this...

Damn...not now.

The Force whispered, and the Zabrak ignored it. He already knew the danger of this cornered mouse, knew she was going to try something desperate. What was the point of listening to information he already had? It wasn't until [member="Blake Morrigan"] shut off her lightsaber that Krest found himself wishing he had listened. The elbow connected with his nose and a loud crack could be heard and blood dripped from it. Broken.

Even as a Zabrak and a Sith Lord the pain dulled his mind, and before he knew it the saber he had 'borrowed' was gone and he was flat on his back. Pain shot through his body, and anger began to brew. Anger and embarrassment, neither were good for a Sith Lord. With a growl he sat up, bringing his flesh hand to his nose to feel the blood. It was still flowing, but not enough to cripple him.

So long as Blake didn't try to attack him he would take his time getting up. Of course, if she ran he would hurry, but part of him knew that she knew there was no where to go he couldn't find her. Not here in Sith space. So he would stand, glancing over his shoulder with small trickles of blood dripping down from his chin. "At least you're trying to survive."
Reality was setting in at this point...this man was not testing her. He actually meant to kill take her life and leave her as even less than a figment of a memory. And no one was going to help her, unlike the Jedi Order this was the norm here. Acolytes died every day and no one ever batted an eye. There was only twos options...she had to die or kill him...

Kill him...

The thought did not settle well with her. She had killed, yes...but the idea of killing a Sith Lord did not mix well because she could only think of the chain reaction such a thing would set off. She would make so many enemies if she even injured this man which was just another reason for her to hesitate. And as the man growled and began to make his way back to his feet. Glaring at her and running his fingers through the blood dripping down his lips and chin.

His words made her grimace.

"...try as i may...i don't believe i will succeed." She murmured. No self confidence lingered in the young acolyte...her ambitions went far beyond herself...she had no pride, no ego. She knew what she was and she would pretend to be nothing more than pathetic.

But be that as it may...she would not roll over for him. She was done with that.

Lifting her hand and positioning her saber behind her in a reverse grip Blake narrowed her eyes.

"I'm sorry for being a burden...but i will fight back until i die. So come on then, KILL ME!" She shouted, throwing her hand outward and using The Force to attempt to manipulate the saber on his hilt and activate it while on his belt, making it more of a danger to him as activating the blade could potentially stab him in the leg or in the arm depending on how it hung. She was sick of being afraid to die...

At this point in her life...

She welcomed the certainty of it.

The saber burned to life on his hip, but rather than try to stop the blade he stepped for her. With the step the blade swung, cutting into his robotic leg. Yet as soon as it did the red blade fizzled and popped out of existence. A line of burned metal and cloth remained, but an unmarked layer of a copper colored metal remained. Cortosis. As soon as it popped Krest burst into a run, closing the distance and brought around his mechanical arm in a quick and controlled jab for her throat.

He payed no mind to the saber in [member="Blake Morrigan"] 's hand purposely, trying to force the already doubted acolyte into further depression on this hopeless situation. Krest was well versed in how to deal with a saber wielding foe, and he would show her just outclassed she was.
When the mans saber triggered and slashed through his leg, she thought that wound have ended this entire fiasco but...the blade simply dissipated without him doing anything...and he simply charged towards her in a way that made her eyes widened. His leg was uninjured which only meant that his was fake much like his arm. She was still uncertain how the saber was deactivated had to assume it had something to do with something in his leg. And as he closed the distance between them Blake's eyes winced shut as she mentally prepared herself for what she'd do next.

His jab which was aimed for her throat...would be adjusted as she moved her body downward so that it would simply make a path towards her face...she would take this opportunity to take advantage of possible excitement and pleased feeling that would likely come with the fact he had landed such a devastating blow. And while some may of been able to brush this kind of strike off...Blake, with her frail sick body would do no such thing.

And just as his fist was about to strike her...she made her move. Her hand moving out from behind her and holding the saber closer to her just under Krest's arm to obscure it from his vision. And just as his first impacted her face, her body tensed, and in doing so triggered the saber in her hand, attempting to allow the blade to phase right through the flesh of his shoulder trough and through...however, if this attack was somehow successful it would be extremely short lived as her body was forced back by several feet, the blade leaving his body just as quickly as it would have entered if it even connected in the first place. The impact of the strike practically lifting her into the air by a couple of feet and sending her crashing back to the floor several yards away. Her saber going with her until she hit the floor, then sending the hilt flinging out of her hand and further down the hall. Her sight dazed and her own senses completely out of whack as she rolled across the floor only to come to a stop on her belly...

Her nose was broken...her eye swollen...and her body incapable of responding as the womans softer more fragile physique was incapable of sustaining such damage. Her body was limp, her sight blurry and unfocused as she stared emptily down the hall and spit up blood from her coal lips which bled through her mask and onto the floor.

Damn he hit hard.
A sharp pain shot right through the shoulder of the Zabrak as his fist connected with [member="Blake Morrigan"] , and as his arm fell he figured out why. A growl escaped him as he glanced down to the hole on his shoulder. Once again she had surprised him, harmed him, made a fool out of him. Now his arm was useless, and he was pissed. Pain continued to flood his mind as he stepped over to the downed woman, reaching out with his good hand to grab ahold of her. With impressive strength he would pull her up and into a head lock. His aim? Choke the life clear out of her.

"You've fought well, but now is the time for rest."
She risked much of herself with the veracity of her own existence. Evolution was painful, uncomfortable, and foreign. yet, this very struggle was all that could guide her, the teacher that molded clay into pottery. She longed to be more than she was, to shove herself through layers of fire, so only the steel of her mettle would survive, could be the only tool she possessed to see her through.

She was lifted from the floor...graced with the choking embrace of the Sith Lord as her back was pressed firmly into his chest, his arm wrapped around her thin neck as he whispered sweet words of sleep into her ears...she knew he could sense the thunder of her heart and the adrenaline that rose to meet the slow panic in her mind. Indeed, this was devious, and she bit her lip to still her quiet sobs of pain for she did not wish to show that side of herself. Mirth made his blood scream. The fear made her dizzy.

She would die here...

In her soul, no matter how she had once mocked such practices, Blake prayed. But for once, her prayer had no destination. It was not to the God that her kin so revered. Neither was it to The Force...

Blake prayed merely to pray, as she chased after whispers and dreams, as she her mind traveled further into the unknown as her life slowly slipped from her grasp.

She relinquished her past and yet still clung to it. She cried to himself as she choked, her legs trembling and her arms weakly pulling as Krest's biceps which were wrapped so tightly around her neck...There was no avoiding it. No amount of will could put an end to this. Blake had never thought this would be how it all came to an end, and yet here she was...the cold gaze of her peers staring upon her as the womans life was reaped from her.

Humiliation swelled in her chest as her heart thrashed against her bones. Her vision splitting into twos and losing focus as the very light from her eyes began to fade. Her mind began to race with the memories of her past and all she could feel was regret.

And in that moment she felt something else as well...




She hated everything about this...she hated her inability to fight back against those stronger than her. She hated the acolytes who stood bye and watched as her life was choked out of her...

And this man...she hated this man.

She would not stand for this!

If she was going to die...if this was to be her final moments on this earth...then...then...

Then she would take him with her!

Golden eyes would flare with color. And during her last desperate breath for air, she focused her gaze upon the Lightsaber at the end of the hall that she had dropped.

And with a single thought...a single desire and want. The hilt tattered on the floor before flinging across the floor and directly towards her...

Time slowed. Everything became still as she slowly closed her eyes and spoke. Her foreign tongue wheezed through her last breath, barely a whisper that reached his ears.

"Au...Revoir." She'd utter quietly.

And just as the hilt of her saber reached her trembling hands, she pressed the Saber into her chest, facing herself and smirked.


With the last ounce of strength she had left, she made her last attempt...the blade flicked to life, a bright golden blade passing through her flesh and bone and forcing her body to stiffen like a pole.

At this time...she felt no more pain, only the numbness of death as she shook violently. Trying to keep her grip on the saber just for a little longer...just so he could feel it. Just so he could let it sink in...and as her vision began to fade into blackness, her body soon went limb. And the Lightsaber had deactivated, falling from her hands and chest and onto the floor beneath her.

This is how it ends...

Krest could only watch what happened next. Unsettled by his own emotions gone array he kept his grip on [member="Blake Morrigan"], trying to squeeze the life out of her before she could do anything. But as he squeezed, a smile formed on his face. The young Sith had accepted her fate, but rather than die alone she would bring another with her. Krest closed his eyes as he too accepted his fate, and the burning blade cut through his chest. The pain was just as he remembered it to be, but this time he accepted it.

It wasn't until he heard the saber turn off that he reopened his eyes. Drained of red his blue eyes stared around, surprised that they still could. Am I dead? No, I can still feel the pain in my chest. Shoulder. He winced as he tried to stand, finding himself unable. The hole smoldered just where his lung was, and he could already feel the lack of oxygen getting to him.

Krest laughed as he looked down to Morrigan. Not only had she failed at killing him, but failed at killing herself. Still, it showed a promise he didn't see in many Sith. The refusal to fail. Part of him wondered if she still breathed only because she had failed in her attempt to end them both.

Soon enough the medics would come under Krest's orders, and the acolytes in the lunch room would watch as one of their own and a Lord were loaded onto stretchers and brought to the infirmary. Rumors would already begin to circulate of the acolyte who chose to kill herself to kill a Lord, but neither of them were dead. The world for Krest would soon fade away as pain overtook him.

He would awake later in the infirmary with his mechanical arm detached and the wound on his shoulder and chest bandaged. A frown settled on his lips as he looked for his missing limb. Yes, they had to remove it to fix the hole carved into his shoulder by the girl, but they could have reattached it later. Though as he looked around he saw a reason they might not.

Blake. She was in a bed close by. Krest couldn't help but burst into laughter as he saw the woman, and even got out of his own bed to pull up a chair and sit beside her. Asides from the bandages he wore only a pair of pants, revealing the scarred and torn up skin he kept hidden under his shirt. An array of marks from lightsaber wounds similar to the one she had inflicted on him to blaster burns disfigured his body, leaving it almost a mass of scar tissue.

"Look at you, enjoying your nap?"
Moonlight ecstasy dressed navy canvas accompanied by glittering diamonds sculpted and shaped by the artists brush. Soon the sun would be creeping through the horizon, peering beyond his line, soon to paint the skies in warm, welcoming pastels to wake the slumbering beasts within the sanctuary of the infirmary nests. Still, she moved in careful jerks and clutches as shoulders rolled in careful contours. Her mind ached The voices still screamed in frenzied anger and hate.

'I will feasssst on your pain.'

Serpentine growl seized her ears in she billowy echo that seemed to dance and mingle all around her despite the reality that it only played within her head. It was growing far more trivial to make sense of the reality versus the demons that scoured her sanity. What remained true and what was deemed a fallacy? Or if this was all a truth and her presence was not just? What of her presence then? As she struggled to know just who she actually was.

Movement jostled nearby brush and her heart seized for a mere moment and her breath withheld. Dark ears folded against her skull Her hyperactive mind stirring her into a raw consciousness and amber eyes widened with dismal fright. Again out of the corner of her eye shapeless form moved closer to her...the body stiff and unable to respond to the brains commands as she struggled helplessly to even move her head to face the lumbering beast.

Her mind was empty and there was little she could recall - remember and this frightened her greatly. Feeling so vulnerable and helpless. Unable to even recall her name – who she was, what she did for a living. More false movement, however this time she felt her mind grow weak and her head began to pound, pound, pound in sharp, fiery pain. Girlish yelp spouted from her dark lips while she trembled in agony...her body bare and exposed, the number of slashes and scars that littered her young feminine flesh as if someone had taken a brush and splayed pain across a canvas. Her chest was wrapped up in her bra, her face mask replaced with wrapped up bandages over her head and face...a single eye covered from the slight scar she had obtained. Her face busted and bruised...but worst of all, her arm...the arm that she always kept hidden was now bare, her decorative marks that she always kept concealed and hidden now bleeding with the energy of the Dark Side...wisp of smoke rising off of her mark as the beast grew closer to her, bringing forth the worse pain she could possibly fathom. If anyone were to know her this was highly uncharacteristic of her. But she was unaware. The pain had since returned and her paranoia worsened. The Nexus painted upon her arm fluctuating rapidly as she began to become radioactive with darkness.

The mans words rang in her ears...and in that single moment it had all came back to her. Everything that had transpired all returned to her in a flash, her mind ablaze with panic as she tried her best to move even her neck to at least turn to face the red skinned man...but alas it was helpless. Her body was stuck, not designed to withstand so much damage at once...she would likely be this way for a while. And with that she could no longer fight back...

He could finish what he had started.

And there was nothing she could do about it...

Or was there?

Krest would reach out for the immobilized acolyte with his one arm and flick her forehead. The Sith could only chuckle as [member="Blake Morrigan"] struggled with her fear. "Relax. If I was going to kill you I would have done so while you were sleeping. So relax." He would take his own advice as he leaned back in his chair, resting the only arm on his lap. "You did well. Death was a certain outcome, and you decided to take another down with you. You've gotten my respect for it."
The young woman stared at the red skinned man through intense golden eyes as she remained steady...her hand however trembled in an attempt to reach for something...anything she could possibly use as a weapon against the horned man. And yet all he did in turn was lean back in his chair and chuckle at her...Blake could not help but feel as if he was trying to mock her given what had just previously transpired. And when he told her that if he wanted to kill her that he would have done it while she was sleeping Blake simply clenched her jaw.

He then proceeded to compliment her...something which only made her blink rather absently before opening her mouth to speak, only for a raspy wheeze to slither out of her throat painfully. Her expression twisted into that of agony as she slowly lifted her arm, examining the dark markings etched into her flesh before groaning quietly and breathing rather intensely through the bandages that covered her face.

The word she did manage came quietly as if a whisper.

"Why?" she uttered...a simple question.

But the only one she really had.
"Why? Why did I attack you? Why are you still alive? Why am I talking to you right now?" The old man let out a chuckle as he stayed leaned back, his one arm scratching his chin. "I attacked you as you were the weakest. The Sith prune the weak from strong, and you were just another to be eliminated so the strong could thrive. But.." He would grin wide as he spoke, motioning to the almost healed hole in his chest. "You refused to take death sitting down. You tried to survive and escape, and when that failed you changed direction to not go down alone. And like I said, I respect that more than anything else. The refusal to accept fate and spit in it's face." Slowly he would stand, his own wound still throbbing with pain. Not that he would let it show.

"I will now train you to become Sith. You've bought your worth with blood, and will be repaid in kind. Rest now, for when your body can move again I will make it and you stronger than you could possibly imagine."

[member="Blake Morrigan"]

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