Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Gyossait, The Broken Half.

Scattered memories like a far off dream, a dream like a scattered memory.
The eons of searching, what feels like eternity, for you.
Does your heart still beat? Even buried so far beneath the crust of the earth only the two of us walked.
We were perfect, you were.
We will find each other again, some day.
Wait for me.

[ Subject Information ]
  • Chosen Birth Name: Gyossait "#312"
  • Alias: None
  • Rank: "Vector Protocol"
  • Faction: None
  • Species: Humanoid, unknown
  • Age: Mentally matured, physically estimated to be in early 20s.
  • Height: 5'7"
  • Weight: 147
  • Eye Color: Gray
  • Hair Color: Black
  • Force Sensitive: To a degree
[ Subject Exceptions ]
  • (+) Resillience - Gyossait has shown quite the physical aptitude when taking on multiple targets at a time, displaying a prowess within both firearms and lightsaber weaponry. He is essentially able to make complex, tactical decisions in mere seconds due to extensive genetic alteration and neural modification.
  • (+) Restless - Due to his nature, Gyossait has no need for sleep or leisure. His mind is endlessly curious, yet not naive to threatening circumstances. He is a vacuum for knowledge, and must understand the reasoning for everything even if there is none. When threatened, Gyossait will completely drop his seemingly passive facade and will attempt to obliterate whatever may be in his way.
  • (+) Willpower - Even while only partly touched by the Force, Gyossait uses this to his advantage by applying it more to his physical prowess and skill with a blade.
[ Subject Failures ]
  • (-) Force Aptitude - Because Gyossait lacks what a true Jedi or Sith does, he has a more difficult time against more practiced opponents and is quite prone to struggling. Limited knowledge on abilities hinders the subject in areas that would be moderately easy for a Knight or greater, thus having a poor defense and offense at times.
  • (-) Stature - Gyossait suffers from a nutritional deficiency, causing him to be quite small and lean as opposed to what he was intended for. Because of this, he is less likely to be able to take much damage in direct combat, also lacking physical strength.
[ Appearance ]

Gyossait's appearance is an obscure one. The design of his suit does not seem like it would serve any practicality, yet it does. The true intent of the visage was to work more as a psychological deterrent, causing those to look upon the strange helmet to feel uneasy or anxious. Beyond the confusing choice of style, Gyossait is fairly kempt. His skin lacks any sort of blemish or disfigurement. He is by all physical means, perfect; however, for whatever reason, Gyossait prefers to stay in his suit a majority of the time due to a feeling of security. Most of his features, minus his mask, are always shrouded in a cloak.

[ Biography ]

Awake. That is what I realized I was, awake. I remember when I was born, the lights and the faces surrounding me with their skin stretched taut, their lips receding away from their teeth in what I learned was a smile. I did not understand the words being spoken around me then, garbled noise and droning machinery. But that was the day I also met her. We were both born to serve a purpose, to serve them.

Our growth excelled their expectations, and so too did our minds. We could talk to each other without using our tongues, but it angered them. They did not like being left in the dark, unable to control us. They were jealous. They seperated us for a time, thinking that the isolation could stop what we felt. How we created our own stars, how we were our own gods. I was your king, you were my queen.

They told me that was I felt wasn't real. But I did not speak, for I knew the truth.

The day we saw one another again, I felt my insides tighten. You looked like the skies they showed me, how beautiful and endless they were. But it was all a lie, and they did it to hurt us. They were trying to make us realize that, if we continued our behavior, a no-tolerance measure would be applied. That we would be punished like children before them, and they were the parent.

We didn't belong there. They didn't deserve to live.

The nights we continued to build our fantasy, the harder the days of combat and simulation became. They strained our bodies, made us bleed out of their own disappointment. They broke us, trained our minds to operate in the manner that they believed was correct. They turned us into weapons.

There was a day that came, the day that burrows even deeper still into my mind. There was a room, but it wasn't like anything else they showed us before. This place, this other confinement was low-lit and felt like a nightmare. The red hues of the room strobed in and out, and then you appeared. Your typical disposition towards me turned into malice.

They made you believe them.

They watched as we clashed, the fantasy we built in our heads - the secret sanctuary we could hide from them in was crumbling and the stars were raging with gaseous flare. Each blow buckled my very heart, and the tears burned my eyes. The instant regret when I pushed back and showed you my pain, the way it overtook me and embraced me like you once did.

I'll never know what they did to you, how they might have filled your ears with filth.

You became slack as I was blinded with repressed rage, the moments where I was crashing down upon you with fire in my hands. Our world, bathed in blood and wrought with suffering. The poison of the serpent's tongue causing decadence to run through our bones and hearts.

They won, there. They saw me stand over you and murder you. Our world was dead.

The fantasy was over. I had failed you - us. The only thing left to face was their authority, and they were afraid. When they begged for mercy, I didn't stop. I cut them down and stalked them like they intended me to in the simulations. Their screams were almost as beautifully obtained as the day you looked at me when I gave you a gift, the world I built for you. Those eyes were full of love, compassion.

The eyes of the men and women I exterminated were full of panic, sorrow. There is no comparison for how the tears stung my eyes with the anguish they inflicted upon us, their regret could never swallow my wrath.

I left from that place, did you know? I wonder some times if you actually died that day. There will be times I find myself watching the stars and moon pass by, the cycle reminding me of the beauty we shared. Our home.

Sometimes I believe I've felt you linger around, like you were just beside me. In some way, you must still live.

You must.

I'll find you, some day. I promise.

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