Grabbing at the Gramutek [PM for Invite]

[Yurzhoc Shai]

Selvaris

Gramutek Fields

Mid morning


"I hate the new ways..."
"The new ways?"
"Yes." He placed a hand against a wild lumen reed, the effervescent glow drifting upon the wind with the display of particles and spores, lifted by the relatively stagnant air. "The new shaping, the new culture, the new everything."
"Why?"
"The implication...that we need improvement."

The Shaper laughed, the headware twirling and moving upon the cusp of her forhead, shifting as if made from wind cut bog water. Yurzhoc growled in response, Stebbles coiling about his arm as if to sooth that ache of a bruised ego. Shaper laughing at the ruling Warrior caste, how dare she!

"You mock me...Shaper!"
"No no...Yurzhoc Shai, of the Shai domain." She held up her hands, admittedly attempting to diffuse the warrior from unintended insult. He smiled at her submission, acknowledgment of his prowess and authority as sub commander and great warrior. Rolling his shoulders, he turned to the fields and looked onward.

"Tell me about this..." The word escaped him.
"The Gramutek?"
"Yes."
"Follow me, I will tell you all about it."

ooc:

Spoiler

This is a development thread for the Gramutek. Before entering this thread, please take the time to look over the submission. This should serve as both development for characters and for the gramutek. If you were tagged, I figured you may want to be involved - though don't feel obligated in any way.

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Arakiel"] | [member="Thirteen"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Durzo Qinvah"] |

 

[Sage Bane]

In between trips to Fresia, to teach at the Temple of Pain, and Coruscant to meet with the Voices and Hands of the Dark Lord, Sage Bane often visited Selvaris. As a member of the Legion Yun'Do and a commander of Yuuzhan Vong armies, it was pertinent that the Sith Lord keep abreast of the latest developments in Yuuzhan Vong biowarfare. The swampy planet welcomed him with open arms and tentacles. Why? He was Yun'Do, accepted among the different Yuuzhan Vong Castes for his superiority position in the upper echelons of the One Sith. There were other reasons that the selective race did not see him as merely an "infidel." Not only was Bane Vong-formed with a biot containing DNA from the Vong King himself, but the Sith Lord had proven his dominance on the battlefield and in the conquest of planets time and time again. His ability to command them had been earned through war and blood. Pain and sacrifice begat respect, and those two things he delivered and received in spades.

Sage, wearing the living Vonduun Crab Armor of the Legion Yun'Do, made his way through the Gramutek fields in the early hours of the morning. His footfalls squelched through the mud, and the tick tick tick of crab legs against shell rattled out a rhythmic metronome for his gait. He had come to see the progress being made on a new species of world shapers. In the distance, he noted [member="Yurzhoc Shai"] and his trusty Stebbles walking with a Shaper through the field where the Gramutek were pulsating into life. Sage thought about those Shaper hands with their long, eight fingers, and how it must feel to weave the fabric of new life where none existed before. If he were the Maker, he would be filled with envy at their creations, as their power and efficiency rivaled those born out of the natural world.

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=18.6666666666667px]Selvaris; Truth’s Chamber[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6666666666667px][member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Arakiel"] | [member="Thirteen"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Yurzhoc Shai"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]There were not many reasons to call upon the services of one Durzo Qinvah, he was no fighter or champion of armies, he did not command a vast hosts of warriors that could conquer worlds and within him did not well the power of infinity, but not many reasons was not the same as no reasons whatsoever.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Whenever an empire had need of toppling without the involvement of the Hosts, they had come to the Mouth of Truth. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Whenever an army needed to be dissolved without direct confrontation… they had come to the Mouth of Truth. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Whenever the common practice of head-on combat had failed or was no longer an option, they had called upon Durzo - not with pride, not with eagerness and with a lot of bitter glints within those eyes, but they had come and he had answered the call.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“This would be much easier… if you simply told me the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px]truth[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px], Byron.” Qinvah mused softly, more to himself than to the rogue Master Shaper currently locked in shackles in the seat in front of him. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Byroniza Darkona was one of the many Master Shapers that had escaped the fire of the Techno Union, just to find itself subdued and captured by Durzo during on of his reconnaissance missions. There were secrets in Byron’s mind, and considering the hiss that escaped his tusked lips… he was not in a mood to speak them in all honesty.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“You will talk eventually, my friend.” the Executor replied to the snarl, before pulling off the Chazarillo from the grafted disk on his shoulder and putting it between his lips. Soon enough smoke started to fill the room.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“Now… let’s begin.”[/SIZE]

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

The defiant sub commander placed a palm against the pulsing and throbbing skin of the Gramutek, it's pinnacle and bastion like properties extending high into the murky and muddled sky. The taste of sulfur sprung about in waves, each gesture by the Gramutek releasing more volcanic sinew from the deep tectonic reservoirs beneath. Like the massive drills that Yurzhoc had heard so much about, this monster pounded the ground with it's simple presence, gorging and consuming with no end in sight. The world around it remained irradiated and barren, the splash of the bog pits arising from sink holes similar to constructed karst geology, creating emptiness down deep below, made sounds of soup and similar fluid - like gelatin stagnating in a bowl, it's tether to the Gramutek revealed itself in pulsing shocks across the surface.

"What makes this better?" He snarled as he gripped the Yorik-coral plate with his strong hands.
"Better than what?"
"Better than the Damutek? Better than what Yun-Yuuzhan gave us for our proclamation of destiny upon the backs of those unworthy!" He felt the temperature rise, the anger of her lack of understanding irritated him beyond belief.

The Shaper smiled a toothy smile, one that reminded Yurzhoc, if only for a moment, of the beauty that the woman carried upon inked visage. Clasping her hands, the warrior frowned in response to his own heretical thoughts, as she motioned to explain.

"Like all technology, we improve and move forward..." She moved like a crab beneath water, weightless. "The Damutek requires immediate sustenance and like all things, has weaknesses that must be attended to."

"Not all things are weak..." Yurzhoc mustered as his black eyes tilted with the shift of his head, inspecting the shaper now with the backdrop of the Gramutek in frame. It was massive and monstrous and ever looming.

"Of course not..." She waved towards the mountains. "The Gramutek can live upon stone, upon building, upon sand. It is conditioned to adverse mediums and growing paths. Less sensitive than the Damutek and far more compelling."

"Compelling?"
"Yes, it's abilities as a World Shaping species extend far beyond that of the Damutek. In almost every regard."

How could this be, he thought. Such things, made by the shapers with protocol that extended beyond the ordained seven, couldn't possibly so easily trump the orchestrated creations of the Yun'O. He would wait for her to lead, to reveal what actual truth lay in such bold accusations.

[member="Durzo Qinvah"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Arakiel"] | [member="Thirteen"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Sage Bane"]

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

[SIZE=10.5pt]A singular explosion erupted at the precipice of such hollow silence, resonating in vibrations across the open air. Hoc looked towards the sky, gunsteel and drab, as the shot of orange amassed in amalgamation of pointless destruction. Pointless destruction, such a contradictory term, thought the Sub Commander as he looked back towards the Shaper. His facial expression must have been one of questioning as she responded to his silent query.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]The Gramutek is capable of self-grafting and building, developing defenses either passively or through direct contact.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]"It can hoist the weight of the Yaret-Kor?"[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Yes, of course. It can also brace the impact of a Yaret-Gavvuk?[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]"Yaret-Gavvuk?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]She wrapped her arm within his, ensnaring his physical presence with a contact of her own. Her bared his teeth but allowed her taking the lead, as they strode around the base of the Gramutek. Along the exterior, a much larger cannon stood at the ready and with a simple gesture, blue plasma flew out with a shell shocking volatility. In the distance, the contrails following a large arch, the contents splattered across the mountain. It was like lightning in a big bottle. Hoc couldn't help but look on in wonder, if but for a moment, as he chewed on his cheek. Steebles reacted as a meager animal would, in response to fireworks and cowering against the strong and significant.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Why is it blue?"[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Differences in chemistry.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]"Chem...Chemistry?"[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Yes.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" She said with a smile, as they turned back towards the body of the Gramutek. Hoc gave a wavering glance as he stepped away from the Shaper, placing a hand against the wall. But where Yorik-Coral once stood, now was a membrane. And in response to his touch, it split open, torn apart by the sheer strength of his presence.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt][member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Durzo Qinvah"] | [member="Arakiel"] | [member="Thirteen"] | [member="Abraxas"][/SIZE]

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

"Pheromones..."

Yurzhoc placed a finger to his nose, lifting it towards the amphistaff upon shoulder, before tracing the contours and jagged edges of the shapers face - with a scrutiny she didn't seem to understand, metaphorical licking of the lips as he devoured notions he dared to not dare upon. He was bigger than such heretical and blasphemous temptations, more than the desires that culled sense and logic. Instead, he merely tilted his head to the flatness of the expression, wondering where next the tour would take him.

"The Hatch Sphincter is guarded by numerous security failsafes, one of which includes a passage pheromone. I implanted yours..."

He looked inward, stepping over the fleshy corridor, as she followed behind him. The sphincter healed and tasted the security once more as he searched the membranous intricacies, lacing the innards of the Gramutek with a certain robustness and fondness for the familiar. Sparkbee hives mounted atop on another, he walked quietly upon the dash of cognition hoods, littering the walls with metallic like tubes running into the brim of the Gramutek.

"What is the purpose of the communication...if it can function on it's own?"
"Why Yurzhoc, we Legion are better than our counterparts. To assume on such false things with no room for improvement, that is the place of the Hrosha, not the Yun'Do."
"Answer the question, woman!" He nearly spit. She spoke in circles without providing sustenance. His attraction and irritation with her melded into something he couldn't understand.
"With every pulse, a caste member can dictate resources from the Gramutek towards other endeavors."
"Endeavors?"
"Yes. Bogs, gla, new grashals, anything really. Each Gramutek contains the meaning of the Vong within the qahsa. We merely need look in and touch it." She placed a hand upon the console of flesh and he mimicked her movement.

Feeling the life and breath of the being, he suddenly understood the overwhelming importance of this being to the Yuuzhan Vong and the Legion Yun'Do. Standing in awe, he looked up towards the kaleidoscope of it's inner gut lining as it moved and tremored with each spasm. Letting out a sigh, he stood in silence and respect, wondering where next his questioning would take him.

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Durzo Qinvah"] | [member="Arakiel"] | [member="Thirteen"] | [member="Abraxas"]

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

The massive beast gulped and gasped in permeating spasms, shuddering with vibrations that shook the planetary surface in which it was ingrained. Hoc pressed his hand against the amphistaffs etched brow ridge, it softened to the gesture as he whispered.

"Don't worry Stebbles, it's not so montrous after all..."
"Who are you talking to?"
"My amphistaff..." He scratched the chin of the coiled weapon before looking back towards the shaper, searching for any inkling of mockery to be found or sensed. It would be the last mistake she ever made but, much to his irritation, he found nothing but the clasping of virtuous hands near the mid line. Ticking his tongue, he pressed his hands against the center pieced and weaved his fingers between the cords of the Tall-Yor.

"Beyond the weaponry, describe to me the defenses."
"Of course..." She approached and pulled on another cognition hood. Placing it over her head, she continued to communicate while discoursing with the Gramutek. "Like any bioship or war beast, the flesh is capable of accepting the assistance of dovin basals...and the yorik - coral, while capable of defense itself, is able to digest and rehabilitate dead technology for the uses of the Legion Yun'Do."

He stepped forward and grabbed her by the throat, the movement within the Gramutek seemed to shift in her defense. "Dead technology is still technology!" Hoc could feel her shaper fingers pull beneath his palms, threatening damage without removal. Through crushing grip, she whispered in protest. "You misunderstand, Yurzhoc..."

His grip loosened and he took one step back, the atmosphere changed within as he tilted his head. "Enlighten me..."
"The Yorik Coral, like the oggzil, can digest the machinations of the heretics and make them something stronger, something nearly impenetrable."
"How?"
"Your body takes food and makes muscle. This is no different."

Such simplicity was something the Sub Commander could understand. He turned and felt the cacophony of the innards shift against it's purpose, her controlling through the cognition hood was repurposing the current processes. But it was too much for a singular shaper. "Where is the Yammosk?" Had she said that? No, but such coordination would at least require the efforts of a Yammosk, if not more.

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Durzo Qinvah"] | [member="Arakiel"] | [member="Thirteen"] | [member="Abraxas"]

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYa4gZ59-1c​

Vrag wasn't often afforded the luxury of sleeping in late; it simply wasn't an option for someone who did what she did, and on those seldom occasions that it did happen, the woman was highly unlikely to heed anybody save for the Dark Lord himself, should the call to rouse her out of bed at an earlier hour arrive.

Note, unlikely, but not entirely impossible.

She could not find it in those wretched remains of her heart to say no when Gabriel, of all people, woke her from her slumber, and though with many a complaint and curse at her lips, Vrag disentangled herself from the sinfully soft, silken sheets and stalked off to the bathroom to try and wash the drowsiness away.

The Hand, curiously enough, was not one to be plagued by nightmares of any kind; no, what encroached on her sleeping hours was her job, and as much as she enjoyed that karking job, Vrag enjoyed her bed as well.

With a final mental kark you to [member="Reverance"] — delivered with a fair share of fondness, however — the woman, now fully clad in Skerr Ygdris and Dhaladii, ready to face the day as any other, finally picked her way down the winding corridors of the Imperious and towards a shuttle that would take her planetside.

Selvaris was, oddly enough, as close to home as Vrag could call any place in the vast Galaxy she lived in. It wasn't because she'd spend most of her time there — because truth be told, Vrag spent most of her time adrift in space with her fleet — but because the people, the spirit that permeated the planet resonated with whatever was left of that thing in her chest.

And the spirit, it seemed, was pulsing today.

"Hey, Pinky," the woman called out on approach, refusing to abandon the nickname even though the man had long outgrown it both in rank and power; to her, [member="Sage Bane"] would always retain that title, lest he beat it out of her. And that was… well, unlikely. More so even than Vrag getting out of bed on one of her few days off, that was for sure.

"What are those?"

[member="Yurzhoc Shai"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Arakiel"] | [member="Durzo Qinvah"] | [member="Thirteen"]​

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

"Not a Yammosk..."

He looked up towards the massive extension of the Gramutek, the honeycomb world spiraling upwards to what seemed like infinity. Kaleidoscope, the place tilted the dimensions in unseemly ways that confused the warrior if not slightly irritated him.

"You lie...woman!" He growled and the amphistaff spit acid from it's mouth, scorching the ground in bubbles of puss and flesh. The shaper held up her hand and smiled.

"No Yurzhoc...this Gramutek houses the Dhuryam of Selvaris."

Yurzhoc stepped back, the wind knocked right out of him. It all made sense. The world brain, the pazhkic Yuuzhan'tar al'tirrna, he suddenly felt the weight of the growing world around him. It nearly shook him to his knees as the sanctity of such a structure went up ten fold. The Shaper approached and lifted the warrior to his feet. "You weren't wrong though, Yurzhoc. A gramutek will normally required a coordinator. But given the centralized position of this specific being, we felt it was an appropriate housing for the Dhuryam."

"We?" He spoke, the pressure of the religious entity nearly overwhelmed him.
"Yes. Reverance included."
"The Warmaster?"
"Yes, the Warmaster."

He smiled, the inclusion of such esteemed wisdom obviously meant this was the right choice. The Gramutek was embedded now and with the defenses in place, it would be a most prominent headquarters indeed.

"Would you like to see it, Yurzhoc?"
"See what?"
"The Dhuryam..."

Yun'o.

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Durzo Qinvah"]

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

She strode forth to the cognition hood and handed the instrument to Yurzhoc. He looked at her, the disappointment was apparent on his sharpened face. Black pools entrenched in a deep brow and check bone structure, he grasped the Tall-Yor in one palm and gazed into her shaper eyes.

"Dear Yurzhoc, few have the fortitude to gaze upon the Dhuryam. But with practice, you may one day be capable."
"Will this help me?"
"Yes. Before you can hear it speak, you must listen to the whisper."

That bit of wisdom made sense to him, in his own way. Pulling the hood on, he began the merger into the local qahsa and processing unit. Where he once stood, the world grew black as the planet turned into a turntable, spinning violently with the possibilities. Gla, grashals, lambent fields, nutrient bogs, deep ravines filled with created rain water and monsters of the abyss. From the death resonating outward, old life was pulled away to make something real, and he suddenly felt that he had the choice over all these things. Pushing down with his tongue, he pushed forward the growing of a building of mica and sinew that serve to breed dovin basals. Later, shapers would graft them into the metallic and yorik-coral surface of the Gramutek.

The Shadow of the impact stretched out forever, the footprint of future endeavors constantly pushing out, until the roots of the Gramutek reached down into the core of the planet and extinguished what life resided there. Yet, just then, he pictured a mountain in the foray. And upon it, whispers receded down the hill, communicating his desires where wishes would turn to deeds. It was the Dhuryam, Yurzhoc knew it, and his smile showed the shaper such realization.

"You see it, Yurzhoc?"
"Yes...and I hear it as well."
"Wonderful...now take the hood off."
"No..."
"Yes, Yurzhoc. Too long and coordination will consume you. Small steps."

He growled and pulled the hood from his head, realizing just how exhausted he truly was. Looking towards the shaper, he exhaled and scanned the room once more. "This is a wonderful creation, far out performing the Damutek."

"I knew you would come around."

 

[Sage Bane]

Sage saw his fellow Hand [member="Vrag"] trudging through the swamp towards him, her Vonduun Crab armor blending her perfectly with her living, breathing surroundings. His honey-brown eyes lit up with excitement. Sage was shamelessly attracted to the Firrerreo, and the fact that she never responded to his advances was ever-present thorn in his side. Had the elusive woman come planetside to specifically visit him?

"Hello my lovely Hand," said Sage with a smirk, wearing his nickname with pride, no matter how diminutive it sounded. Vrag could call him anything, as long as she called him. He swept his hand around at the fields, where the pods pulsated gentled.

"These are called Gramtuek. They are world shaping creatures much like the Damtuek, but I'm told they are more efficient and hardier. I wouldn't expect anything less from the Shapers of the Legion Yun'Do."

To be honest, Sage did not know much about how the Gramtuek or the Damtuek really worked, so he hoped that Vrag did not ask him, lest he lose intellect points in her mind. Not that he had that many to begin with after his prosthetic arm attacked her that day on Iridonia. He turned his gaze to Vrag, his eyes brimming with awe. Was it his reaction to the fields of Gramtuek or the Firrerreo? Both, if you asked him.

"Looking at these creatures growing, is...Well, doesn't it make you feel like you have the whole galaxy at your fingertips?"

[member="Yurzhoc Shai"]

 

[Vrag]

You'd have to be deaf, or possibly dead, to miss the salacious implications dripping from the Sith Lord's greeting, and since Vrag was neither, all that remained was to sigh and roll her eyes in exasperation.

Well, at least he was persistent, she'd give him that. Not that there was anything wrong with the man — except for that chit-eating grin that made her want to punch him just a bit more — but even she had to draw the line somewhere, and sleeping with more than three 'co-workers' was more than enough for her tastes.

At that thought, the firrerreo's amused frown curled upward into a smirk born of fond memories, and her skin tingled warmly along her spine, sending small shivers all the way down the tips of Ygdris' spikes.

"Of course they are," the Hand noddedknowingly, a hint of pride in her voice as she cast her look to the towering structures pulsing in the field. As far as the eye could see, those giants with the skin of a slumbering volcano, pulsing and throbbing as if they were the heartbeat of the planet itself; watching over its ruthless evolution with their faces carved into merciless silence.

A soft chuckle snuck past her lips at Pinky's last comment, and the skull turned slightly to the side to chance a glance down at him.

"You mean you don't feel like that every day?" she challenged good-naturedly, but the scene was far too pleasant, the air too calm for Vrag to have any wish to disturb it. Moments like these were rare for creatures of war that they were, and she'd learned to appreciate the respite they offered from their regularly scheduled carnage and conquest.

After what seemed like a short while, but could have been mere seconds, the Hand spoke again, the tips of her sharp teeth showing as her smile blossomed fully.

"What say you, Sage," the woman started as she clasped her counterpart's shoulder, "that I race you to that Gramutek right there?" It was only marshes, after all. What could possibly go wrong?

"The loser must fulfill a request by the winner, no objections allowed. You game, Pinky?

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Yurzhoc Shai"]​

 

[Sage Bane]

Sage was enjoying the quiet moment with his fellow Hand and former battlefield commander. Both had recently fought hard against the Republic on Ord Mirit who insisted on taking on the Sith goliaths again and again, and even though her face was masked by her Skerr Ygdris, Vrag had a post battle afterglow around her. Oddly enough, Sage had never seen the woman outside of her Voduun Crab armor. Her face was unknown to him. However much he wanted to see what was underneath all that plate, her appearance was not what attracted Sage. It was her bloodthirstiness. Her battlefield prowess. Her wanton brutality.

At her impromtu game, Sage smiled wider, showing his teeth like a jackal. "I see what you're doing, Mistress Vrag," he chided.

"You're cunning...like a brick to the face."

He bent his knees in a runner's starting lunge, and raised his brown eyes to the Firrerreo warrior.

"Oh, I'm game, Vrag."

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqRk5kXROS4​

​

​

Like a brick to the f—

the rest of the thought went up in laughter, and her hand slipped from Sage's shoulder as she let out the hearty chuckle, her eyes glinting dangerously behind that mask. Oh, how alive she felt!

How synchronized with the rhythm of this planet that she could, if tentatively so, call home; how oddly at peace and serene despite all the conflict Selvaris was nearly perpetually embroiled in.

Ah, you irony, you.

With a final snort and a shake of her head, Vrag assumed a similar position to the one Sage was patiently waiting in, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Or was about to eat it. Semantics.

"I hope you're ready, Pinky," she said, and then she was gone.

More than a decade of early mornings and evenings spent sweating blood was now pulsing through her veins, muscles rippling in well-practiced motions as she breezed across the Otliq'o-tu botqoq, the Cavalry's marsh, named so for the swarms of Nuhlrokka often seen circling above it in training drills and tournaments.

There were none in sight at the moment, most likely because of the complicated process of establishing the Gramutek upon the surface of a planet — something they would take no chances with — a process that, in a few moments, could be viewed from up close.

Vrag and Vonduun Skerr Ygdris collaborated in perfect unison, the beast and its living armor exerting with each long stride as they covered leagues in the blink of an eye. It was freeing, to run like this, unchecked and unburdened by the weight that usually bore down on her shoulders; the weight of thousands of lives she commanded each day, the decisions and secrets entrusted to her for the authority she carried; all of them left behind in the shallow footprints of her chitin boots, gathering in the puddles of muddy waters.

Plus, she was about to win. What could be more perfect?

[member="Sage Bane"]​

 

[Sage Bane]

Sage knew he wasn't going to win the race with Vrag. There was never any contest. The young man had sucked down so many deathsticks in his youth, that his lungs were as black as a Cortosis miner's. The outcome of their little race didn't matter. Either way, he would get to spend more time with Vrag, so to Sage it was a win-win situation.

His boots were splattered by the mud left in Vrag's wake. He merely tutted and watched her run, marveling at her speed and power.

As he knew he wouldn't beat her, Sage figured, why not have some fun instead. With that in mind, the Sith Lord did not sprint off after Vrag. Instead, in typical Sage form, he simply sauntered lazily, pausing every now and then to inspect a stray tendril or skittering swamp creature. Oh, Vrag would probably be livid when she turned around and saw him ambling towards her with that smackable grin. Whatever she did to him would be worth seeing her face react to his impudence, however.

Now if he could only figure out just what it was that she would request of him.

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

She came sprinting past the thick hull of the Gramutek like a speeding bullet, altering her trajectory into a sharp turn only once she'd defiantly scraped her clawed fingers against its hide in a display of justified arrogance. Only after doing so did Vrag relent in her pace, slowly elongating her stride as her breathing evened out and her heart slipped back into its normal beat.

And then her smirk promptly disappeared.

With a wet sound, the Hand stopped in her tracks as her gaze fixated upon the figure of her Pinky in the distance, heedless of the fact that her chitin boots had sunk into the quagmire up to the ankles.

"Oh, you have got to be karking kidding me," she muttered incredulously, and her HUD courteously zoomed in on that chit-eating grin on Sage's face, so that she really had no other choice but to watch him saunter over to where she was standing.

"You've got some balls, Bane!" she called out over the expanse of marshes still separating them, narrowing her cold blue eyes at his sashaying figure even as he drew ever closer. Boy, was he ever taking his time, and with every second that passed, Vrag grew more determined to conjure a punishment that he wouldn't soon forget.

Even as her mind swam with possibilities, the firrerreo reached up to stroke the head of her amphistaff, Lammie, who had curiously peeked out of the skull after the jarring waking call she'd received just a few minutes prior. Usually, such a rude morning would leave her somewhat irritated, but the taste of Selvarisian air upon her tongue put the creature in better spirits than what the nature of the situation would normally dictate.

"I know," the Hand cooed softly as she stratched the amphistaff under its chin. "He'll get his, you'll see," she added conspiratorially, nodding to herself as a distinct plan of action formed in her head.


[member="Sage Bane"]

 

[Sage Bane]

Sage couldn't contain his boyish laughter as he slowly approached his fellow Hand. He did not even need to see [member="Vrag"]'s face to know that the look on it was priceless. He gave a recalcitrant shrug at her complaints. Guessing from her posture, she was pretty karked-off at him. After what seemed like a massive amount of deliberate balking, he finally approached, boots softly squelching through the mud. His face was one part feigned indifference and two parts obvious amusement.

When Sage finally reached Vrag, he gave the Firrerreo a wide berth, putting himself right out of grabbing or kicking reach. Her amphistaff had slunk out of an eyehole to watch him curiously. The majestic Gramutek waxed and waned behind her as it soaked up nutrients from the Selvaris earth. It was quite a sight to behold, but despite its exotic beauty, Sage only had eyes for his fellow Hand.

Sage spread his hands before her. "Looks like we have a winner," he announced, stifling a giggle. An excited glint flashed in his honey-brown eyes.

"So Mistress Vrag, what is this mystery request for your Pinky?"

 

[Vrag]

The Hand of the Dark Lord, to her credit, did not respond immediately. Then again, her self-restraint was quite fabled a thing, and she was known to keep her cool even in situations where anyone else would have lost it, not just the notoriously arrogant and impatient Sith.

But Bane… ah, Bane. He did have a way of pushing one's buttons, and knowing him as she did, Vrag was well aware that the Pinky wouldn't relent. His teasing would get more elaborate, surely, and his quips more innovative as time went on, but ignoring him was not the option; especially not when she still had a reward to collect on.

That thought alone was sweet enough to wash away any stray feelings of annoyance that might have soured her victory, and her lips curled back to reveal two rows of sharp white teeth as she leered at the man who was currently at her mercy. Such an exquisite prey, a Bane. There were so many things she could make him do, or make him endure, that Vrag had a hard time settling on just one.

She should've worded her bet more carefully, but what was done was done. Blue eyes narrowed at the twin pools of mischievous brown twinkling back at her, and the urge to wipe that smirk off his face itched at her fingers again.

In another display of that legendary self-discipline, the firrerreo reined in her impulses and took a step closer to the shorter man insted, looming over him as she slowly eclipsed the large form of the Gramutek behind her.

"We have to do something about that mouth of yours, Sage dear," she murmured thoughtfully as she reached out with a clawed hand, hooking his bottom lip with the sharp edge of her thumb.

"You talk too much, don't you think?" the woman continued slowly, punctuating her words with light tugs on his lip, teasing the soft flesh as if she were testing when it would break.

"Mm, don't answer that, actually. I have my request for you, Pinky," she said with a low hum, barely suppressing a gleeful chuckle.

"You… will be quiet. You, [member="Sage Bane"], will be utterly silent for the next three days."

 

[Sage Bane]

As Vrag's Vonduun crab boot marched forward, Sage's marched back. Truthfully, he wouldn't mind some physical contact with the Firrerreo. At all. Just not the kind that involved a brutal beatdown. Still her advancement wasn't enough to wipe the smirk off his face just yet. She reached out a clawed hand and dug a razor-sharp nail into his bottom lip. A droplet of blood beaded up and pooled on the soft pink flesh. His eyes soulfully searched the vast holes in her skull helm, looking for a sign of life in there.

When Vrag's request came, Sage's smirk slowly dissipated, giving way to a very obvious pout. Almost mocking, but not quite.

"How uninspired of you, Mistress Vrag," he tutted. Although a voice in his head told him he was tugging on the tiger's tail, he was already defying Vrag's request, and insulting her at the same time. Sage continued to court a vicious beating as he looked for loopholes.

"I would like to negotiate a different request. How am I supposed to do my job if I am not able to command my troops? Besides, I was really hoping that my task would be something more, um, physical in nature. There are quite a few things I'd be all too happy to do for you, my Lady."

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

As expected, the man before did all but comply. Typical Sage.

The two Hands leveled each other with stares of equal quality, but it was only one of them who knew that; Bane was left wondering what exactly was going through Vrag's head, flailing about in the darkness of the skull's sockets, and this small victory pleased her.

She hadn't thought the man would stay true to his word, not with the nature of the request presented — Kill thousands? Sure. But stay silent for more than five seconds? No can do! — but the desperate edge to his voice truly made drawing it out worth it. The woman was content to let him simmer in his uncertainty as she grinned behind the perennial leer of her skull, mirroring its expression in a way that would send chills down one's spine, were one able to see it.

But both of them remained blissfuly ignorant of this disconcerting fact, focusing instead on matters far more… empirical in nature. Philosophy could wait.

"Sage," she cooed, though the absence of true warmth in her voice made the name seem more like a threat than anything direct could.

She took a step further into his personal space, watching raptly as a single crimson rivulet of blood trickled slowly down the curve of her claw. The Vonduun shivered in delight as it tasted the familiar liquid, and it dug its legs in deeper of its own volition, seeking to coax forth more of the delectable substance.

Vrag tutted in reprimand, withdrawing her hand in a flash to remind the Ygdris who was in charge. Her armor settled down with a resigned hiss, and as its moment of rebellion passed, the firrerreo focused on her counterpart again.

"You should know better than to disobey me, my dear Pinky," she continued as her armored form loomed ever closer to the complacent sorcerer, her body thrumming in anticipation. "But that's exactly why you do so, is it not?"

A small chuckle escaped her lips as the sharp edges of her skull dug into the soft flesh of his pale cheek.

"I don't think you realize what you're getting yourself into."

Her words were little more than a susurrus in his ear, and her gauntleted hand had found itself resting snugly against the column of his throat; a warning and a promise at the same time.


[member="Sage Bane"]