I'd Love To Change The World [Tirdarius]

[Blake Morrigan]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hEh9LiSzow​

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"Je Vais Changer Le Monde"​

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| [member="Tirdarius"] |​

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"You Will Bare Witness"​

In the pre-dawn still, not a whisper of life stirred between these barren ruins. A grey mist swirled damp and cloying through moisture bowed boughs of the underbelly of Ke'lai, the fog a thick and heavy blanket thrown across the eyes of perception; it was almost a solid thing, spread across the rotted carpet of discarded garbage, sheathing skyscrapers roots in a hazy scabbard until the thickness broke and they reared up again somewhere higher on. Roiling tongues of fog wisped hungrily across trickling streets whose whisper of presence was merely a vague suggestion hidden further by the stifling morning chill. Beyond the towering cathedral of Ke'lais architecture, jagged shards of broken contingency yielded glimpses of ponderous grey cloud, lumped perilously and still dark with dawn's absence.

So still. So quiet. Tranquil enough to break the petty heart of man, should he be lingering at hand to witness the unveiled glory of nature's splendor.

It was never this... satisfied.

The city was - usually - always screaming. Her children were always hungry. Her children were left to fend for themselves, wanting and pitiful, bellies empty on bloat; wailing in misery and anger for some semblance of a savior to ascend them from this mortal affliction. But Ke'lai? It was a barren mother with no milk in the teat and thus her children turned amongst eachother to fight and grapple, turned against brothers while struggling for love that didn't exist. There were always ravenous souls crying out, thundering through the metal jungle, automatons on patrol, families left to kill. She knew this now, she realized it: there was no more deception on either end of the deal. She knew now a starving army was an army capable of atrocities unfathomable so as to overwhelm - that this kind of horror bred other horror, traded valor for something just as hardened yet less admirable. That is was this quiet was an anomaly.

There is no escaping it now. We have become the same, you and I; we are each and all starving for absolution; we are, each and all, lost.

And with this twisting thing, a symbiosis had occurred. All traces of alien - outside - hesitance had vanished, sucked into a yawning pit of destruction created by the rift in her heart. She'd found herself somehow, somewhere, had vanished into an ethereal existence likeable to a ghost; drifting, wandering aimless, fevered by strange broken thoughts that mother Ke'lai eventually soothed, a price paid by imparting the shadow of her eternal hunger upon a once righteous crusader. When had Blake last seen the light of day? Shuddering like a mewling babe before the wide-eyed gapejaws of her family, freshly cut from the wood block where meat slabs were fastened to wait the butcher's artistry. Day was a metaphor - she'd been here, physically, yes, but ever wreathed in the dark of a shattered mind where no sun dare shine.

The starless night of soul had passed and finally withdrawn, yet there was a new dark there, an inbetween veiling the swollen sun, twilight much like the grey fog through which Blake now sluiced. The mist licked chill and damp across her manged shoulders as she journeyed to the great meeting hall...a place where the corrupt flocked to discuss plans of their future of profit...and Ke'lais future of misery and bloodshed. Empty...unoccupied aside from the rather lame security protocols that were laid in place. This location after all was a secret...located in the ruins of the land they conquered and laid waste to when they arrived on Ke'lai...underneath the rubble and dust nestled within the foggy gray. Couldn't have actual security hanging around...someone might get suspicious and poke around.

Though luckily, Blake had managed to find this place...working for Mr Vicewood was only a means to an end...because with his carelessness and reckless behavior she was able to get to his computer and bypass his pathetic security system. And in doing so discovered this location, the codes and passwords...and the time of their most recent meetings. The plan was set in motion...there was no turning back now.

All was still quiet, but it was only a matter of time before the seal broke and the gush of chaos bled through its newly torn wound in the hide of beauty. An oppressive heaviness lay on the land he faced, corpse like. But it would change nothing...

The only path now was blood.

Carrying a heavy backpack slung across her shoulder Blake shuffled through the rubble and dirt...eyes steady on a datamap that showed the location of the terminal she needed to access the facility. Nearing closer and closer, eventually the silver eyed girl found the location and came to a pause...her gaze lifting from the map and landing on a large stone shaped like a pillar before her...

She would frown, setting the pad on a rock beside her she approached the pillar and pressed her hand along its rugged surface...feeling around before finally clicking a barely visible button which forced a large control pad to reveal itself from the wall. The girl looked at the panel...a large rectangular shaped screen with buttons scattered across it. Blake smiled, reaching into her pocket and taking out a sheet of paper she had written Vicewoods code on, she examined it for a moment and approached the panel...

She slowly began to dial in the code, making sure not to screw it up and set off any alarms. The code was tedious, probably about twenty characters. And after she had put in the code and pressed 'Enter' the panel glowed green...granting access to the facility. Blake recoiled her hand as the panel retreated back into the wall...a sudden 'SNAP' echoing through the air as the floor beneath her began to split open down the center...revealing a ivory staircase leading down into a brightly lit tunnel...Blake smirked, looking around a bit before taking her map and backpack, examining the fox to make sure no one was around before heading down.


So far...so good.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Blake Morrigan"]

To cause death by accident or through circumstance is but a natural device, something that life demands to balance the books. He had always firmly believed that: many shied away from death, fled from it, saw it as something to be feared and avoided. The Sith saw it as a natural reality, a thing to be accepted and embraced - whether in the form of their own end, or that of another. Sometimes a weed must be pruned from a garden if the other plants are to flourish and grow to their potential. That was their world.

This, however, was murder, pure and simple.

This backwater of a planet, a rain-washed, dark-filled artificial monstrosity, of duracrete towers and neon-coloured lights illuminating all that was not dimmed in shadow, it nonetheless spoke to the darkness more thoroughly than was often true even on the colder worlds of the Sith. Here there was life, and where life existed, the Dark flourished far more powerfully. Perhaps it had spoken to the girl, persuaded her of cold-blooded murder, encouraging thoughts she had left pent-up for so long, until a callous wish had turned into a burning desire that could only be quenched in blood. Before she is done, there will be plenty of that.

He had argued, insisted that she turn her attentions to more pressing matters - something as petty as mere revenge was of little consequence, and to indulge herself in a thirst for blood would distract her focus from the broader picture. In truth, he feared he was unleashing a monster, allowing her to sate a need that would only prompt her to seek out more. And to empower her to that end would only turn her from a killer into a monstrosity. It was a tenuous thread that connected her to the rationality that he demanded from those he would offer instruction to. She might yet sever it with such an action.

The girl could not be swayed from her desire, however. A slave she had been, and it behoved her to visit justice upon those that had inflicted it on her. Justice was, perhaps, how she thought of those dark intentions that swirled through her mind, but the Sith standing by in the shadows knew better. Justice is impersonal and must always be so. If we kill with anger in our hearts, we but make ourselves into butchers, not executioners. There were many who took life with such feelings gripping at them, and they came to like it.

Those were always the ones that needed death to be visited upon them. How else to restrain a wave that might wash over countless innocents and deprive them of their most precious gift?

Tirdarius had elected not to interfere: he could have done so, of course, perhaps even should have, but the resourcefulness required of a Sith demanded testing, and the girl had nothing with which to make her attempt, so was required to procure it all by herself, without any assistance from the Sith. How she might go about harming her former captors remained for her to decide, and executing such a move would be all upon her shoulders. She will live or die by her own choices. That much was as it should be, and nothing he would help her to avoid.

All that remains is to see whether or not the Darkness takes an interest, he thought reflectively. Without it, this one would no doubt die a painful death, her abortive attempts to harm others failing through simply lack of foresight and ability. And so the galaxy returns to balance: some will live, others will die, and the march will go on.

Just as it should be.

 

[Blake Morrigan]

| [member="Tirdarius"] |​

The plan was set, soon to begin creaking in motion; hours from now, on the breaking of dawn, she will set out, slay the dragon and recapture the stolen pride - it was no princess, but to her, it was definitely worth more than a raggedy damsel ever would. The princess?

Ke'lai...

This pride was taken away from them ... stolen. Blake had every intention in her blood and body and soul to get back what was rightfully hers - theirs.

She delved too far into her own mind, absolutely immersed in her thoughts - there would have to be a blueprint of how exactly she would proceed with this, what exactly had to happen if she met the 'dragon', to physically and emotionally train herself to bring it down - and perhaps with this subconscious thinking of wishing to see a people liberated...freed from tyranny and oppression.


It was in the name of peace right? Thats what this was all for? The hope that a single action could spark a revolution in the hearts of her people. And yet, despite that naive mindset...Blake knew that would not happen. In the end you knew how this game ended...when she did what she was about to do, more blood will be spilled...riots would break in the streets and the fabric of Ke'lai's already fragile society would rip as the world was torn asunder.

You can't change the world without getting your hands dirty...before creation, destruction is needed. If millions are to live, flourish and survive then hundreds had to be sacrificed. This was the cruel reality Blake had come to understand and in the end accept. Even if she was branded a murderer, a cold blooded monstrosity spawned from the depths of hell she would not turn back. And when the waters settled and the raging storm eased, light would seep back into this world. One way...or another.

And as those bright silver eyed wandered along the meeting room of the Warlords who had brought Ke'lai to such disarray Blake paused...looking over the small, simplistic room with a neat setup.

This was where they came to discuss their plans...this is where they sat while others suffered...underneath the ruins that once was a prosperous district...a capital of a planet.

Blakes fist clenched, her fury radiating off her like smoke from a burning forest. Wasting little time, she carefully set the backpack she had carried down on the table and unzipped the pack...reaching inside and very steadily pulling out what appeared to be a device with wires and buttons across its surface...a bomb.

Probably the lowest form of retaliation...and yet the only effective option for her. She had played her part...the small fish had eliminated. Poisoned, mugged...meeting their ends in unfortunate accidents. This alone was what would force The Order to call a meeting in the first place...this was all just part of the plan. This was her war...and every war called for death in some way shape or form. She needed no army and she needed no weapons. Just a plan.

This was just a cowardly act of terrorism...right? But in the end who are they kidding...this girl, this orphan...this...nobody. Has waged war againtst the most powerful and influential dictators in Ke'lais recent memory...and is winning! They can spin it a thousand different ways, but the images speak for themselves...cowardly? No...when this was done Blake would stand by her actions and reveal herself for the monster she was...and accept whatever fate fell upon her by the hands of justice. Terror?

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Absolutely. If your actions do not strike terror and fear into the hearts of your adversary...then you have no business waging war. Blake would not sugar coat any of this...she knew what she was doing was wrong...that is was repulsive in every definition of the word. But pretty speeches, noble men, honorable battles and parliaments would not fix this broken thing...and she lacked the strength and the power to do anything else...it was her helplessness that drove her so such extremes. Helplessness bred desperate actions...and this was hers.

The last few moments were spent finding a suitable location to hide the device what would change everything...and after about ten minutes of looking she settled for hiding it under the holographic display system in the center of the room...hidden under all the circuitry and motherboards. Making look like it belonged...

Blake then, with her fleeting strength forced herself to arm the device...the green light lit and beeping, awaiting detonation. Blake then closed up the base-frame of the projector and fixed everything she had moved...taking her now empty bag and looking at the Detonator she now held within her hand...

At the push of a button she could spark a revolution...now all she had to do...was wait.

And with that, she made her exit. Cleaning whatever footprint she may of left behind and back out the exit...six hours and they'd arrive. Six hours and the deed would be done. And once she entered the misty landscape of the land above those heavy doors closed behind her...Blake lifted the crimson scarf around her neck up over her mouth and sighed, heading back down the path she took to get here.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Blake Morrigan"]

Death alone was of no concern - much as both Sith and Jedi spoke at length of the nature of life and the finality of its end, it was ultimately something happening at a near-constant rate, with little reservation or concern from the unfeeling majority. It is simply a reality to be accepted and embraced, rather than shunned or retreated from. Naturally so many spent much of their precious and limited time trying to find a way to perpetuate their lives or perhaps even to escape their deaths, but such was a vanity, foolishness in the extreme.

Murder, though, the visitation of death upon the living for one's own selfish purposes... That was a very different affair. True, no Sith would shy away from it if it needed doing - it was a simple sacrifice they took upon themselves, a necessary evil oftentimes designed to prevent a greater one. But this is not such a thing. To a Sith, the death of another was the surgical laser scalpel that cut out a cancer that might otherwise infect and destroy healthy tissue. It was the removal of a weed from the garden. It is systematic, clean, necessary.

What the girl had in mind was less than merely unnecessary. It is an act of cowardice.

He had observed her from afar, oftentimes concealed even from visual sight, his powers wrapping light around him the way one might wrap a comfortable blanket around their body to protect from the cold. Her intent had been simple enough to divine. The actions she took hardly difficult to discern from his observations. She intended violence on a considerable scale, irrespective of the collateral, ignorant of the damage she might cause, blind to the consequences. She had but one goal in mind, and she will achieve it no matter the cost.

Perhaps that was why he did not intervene: that knowledge that she would go to any lengths to see her goals be successful. It is a ruthlessness native to all of our kind, the actions of a being that knows that doing what needs to be done takes priority over all others. A person who would not do the immoral thing at the moral time for it had no business cloaking themselves in the simple robes of a Sith. It was the road that a Jedi would fear to tread: to do a damning thing because it needed to be done, embracing the scorn, hatred and ill-repute that might come with it. The girl had that much, at least.

Of course, he knew he might be watching a monster being born. The girl had the Force within her, rendering her capable of far more than she had shown herself possessed of thus far. With discipline, a true sense of moral action, with effective training...yes, she might prove to be of value to the Sith, to serve the greater cause. But she might also prove herself to be the type to give way to destructive impulse, to strike at whim and create suffering on a scale horrifying to behold. If such a time came, he knew now that it would be his responsibility to end her, for it was by his inaction now that she was set upon her path, for good or for ill.

By sparing her life when it could have been taken, by allowing her to consider a path beyond the miserable one that was set before her, I have irrevocably unleashed a new destiny. It was the Sith way to do this: to break those lesser chains and gift the gifted with the burden of their powers, to teach them the ways and the reasons by which those might be used, and to grant them insight into what might be. But in so doing, we unlock doors that might be best to remain closed. You could not teach a child to wield a knife and know with certainty that they would not cut themselves or others around them, however. Such is the risk we all take.

He would give her time to change her mind: when that moment of truth came upon her, and the murder she planned approached fruition, perhaps she might see sense in the futility of it. Her path was to be diverted to a greater purpose than she had imagined possible. To begin it with such a mundane act of violence would introduce her to the darkness. And it may not be prepared to relinquish her, once it has taken hold.

The girl still had time. She did not know it, but she remained stood over the tipping point. Only her choices now might decide which way she would fall. And on such decisions rest the fate of many. That was what it meant to be Sith. This was a lesson she would learn in short order.

[member="Blake Morrigan"]

 

[Blake Morrigan]

| [member="Tirdarius"] |​

Time had passed...the girl...nearby. Waiting and observing. For seven solid hours she sat stationary behind a pile of shattered stone and tattered rubble. Her kneels curled into her chest as her arms curled around them while she rested her head upon her knees.

The detonator firm in her hand...her eyes sealed and sleeping as she huffed. In the darkness of her fickle dreams, it was the loud rush of water that consumed her; the furious sound of those steel-cut waves breaking across the dam, a blackness that was loud enough to drown in. It seemed she could not shake the sensory ghost that dogged her, and occasionally, laying awake and unable to move in bouts of cold yet ambivalent fear as the deafening sound washed over her, the raven wondered if it a metaphor or merely a memory.

The water lay very still now. It had drowned the district she once shared in a time she could no longer remember - but even that was a lie because she could see it all, the faces she had grew up with, it was simply that she could not remember the feeling. When she had tried to seek out the last of it.

And now here she was...nearly ten years later she returned to the edges of its devastation. The dead river beside the girl did not flow...it did not shimmer. Polluted by dust and filth. The young girl slowly lifted her head and glanced into the still waters...she could only stare into the murky river and find she did not recognize the face that was looking back at her. Not the silver eyes of her mother, not the bi colored hair of her father...she was a stranger even to herself.

And as a few more moments passed it happened...the sound of doors opening and shutting...footsteps clambering in the distance. Small talk and discussion between men and women.

They were here...at last.

Blake slowly picked herself up to her feet and leaned over to the edge of the wall she hid behind. Peeking out to spot the nine officials and two guards who stood at the entrance as the Warlords accessed the facility and made their way inside to begin their meeting.

Her hands shook...so close...all she had to do now was push the button. Set off the bomb and end their reign of tyranny. And as those doors closed and sealed them within she slowly lifted her hand...looking at the device that could set her people free. She stared intensely...her jaw clenching as she gripped it with both hands to keep herself from shaking to violently. But even that failed in the end...

She was trembling now. It was her move now...she had moved the pieces along the board masterfully and this was the checkmate that could win her the game...all she had to do was just push...the...button.

But why...why was she hesitating? This was what she wanted right? This was the acropolis. The end game...the thing she had worked for. Three years allowing her body to be a product sold on a shelf...defiling herself just for those extra inches forward. The sacrifice, the scars. All of it...it all led up to this. And as her thumb Lingered over the button she could only feel her breathing hitch. Tears swelled in her eyes as she sealed them shut. Trying to make up a reason, any reason to do it. Cast aside everything she once considered innocent about herself to commit this evil...to become a monster. She was prepared for it right?

Or at least...thats what she told herself...up to this point. That she was prepared to die...prepared to cast aside her morality and sense of good just to save her people. She had repeated it to herself...over and over again like a mother sang a lullaby to their child. And in these years of anger and agony she convinced herself to believe her own lies...and now she found herself struggling to execute. She questioned every move she made, and it was costing her now.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as her body only continued to shake. She was just a girl...she was not like other children her age. Boasting abilities akin to that of demi-gods, doing extraordinary things as if they were second nature. She was a nobody...a weakling. And in her weakness she became desperate, she just wanted...to help her people.

She remembered her time in the orphanage. The children with no hope of survival in this cruel world. The homeless on the street, forced from their homes. Fathers who lost their wives, women who watched as their children were butchered or sold into the slave trade. The innocents who fought for their rights only to perish under the wrathful fist of Warlords.

And in remembering these things something seemed to go off in her mind...something broke.

Something...snapped.

And with this single moment her silver eyes shot open and she held her hands steady. She knew what had to be done, and if she didn't do it. Who else would?! Thats just it...there is no one. She may of not have been the only one with the power to change the fate of her people...but she was the only one willing to throw her life away to do it.

And so, summoning every once of will she could muster Blake did it...slamming her thumb on the detonator. Her body tensing to brace for the explosion as she did so.

...

But she was only met with silence.

Her eyes went wide for a moment...examining the trigger she pressed it again...and again...and again and again and again. Each time harder than the last as if the more force she put into it the more likely it would work. And with each time she pressed it she could only feel her body grow weak with fleeting hope.

The bomb...it was broken. She must of done something wrong...but how? She designed two bombs the exact same way. She even tested one! Why was this one not working?

She began to consider the worst...maybe in the meeting they had found the bomb and disarmed it...perhaps she missed something, didn't activate the right signal for the trigger. There were so many possibilities that Blakes head began to spin like a top.

Without the bomb...what could she do? She had nothing. That was her only play...without it she couldn't free her people. She wasn't...strong enough.

Her knees grew weak...and pressing her back to the wall she dropped the trigger and slumped down back to the floor. Her body nearly limb as she shook her head and sobbed quietly.

She failed...failed her family...failed her only friend...she failed her people...and worst of all she failed herself. And as tears dripped from her chin the girl sat there and thought to herself...

'What do i do now?'

And it seemed in that very moment something came to her. A single line...a single quote she once heard before.

"If you stand for nothing Blake...then what will you fall for?"

Those words...seemed to spark a reaction like fire to gasoline. Her eyes drifted down to the stones and rocks beneath her and with the clenching of her fist and grabbed a lump of rock and held it up to her face...

"I will-" She paused, closing her eyes for a few seconds before standing to her feet. Looking out at the two guards at the entrance she clutched the rock and scowled.

"I will dash them against the stones." Blake growled to herself. If she could not kill them all at once...she'd kill them one by one. Personally...intimately. Even if it resulted in her death, she knew the cost of freedom. Only blood would suffice. Hers...or theirs. Taking the stone in her hand she set out, circling around the outer edges to attempt a quieter approach to the guards who seemed to be having a conversation with one another at their leisure. Blake took advantage of their lack of focus and moved around them, slowly approaching them casually from behind, calculating that their helmets would prevent them from a full field of view.

Her heartbeat grew rapidly as she neared the back of one of the men...inch by inch, step by step she eventually stood directly behind him. Her silver eyes focused on the sidearm in his holster slung around his hip and the rifle in his hands. Guns were heavily regulated on Ke'lai...and she had never even held one before. But it was her only chance...it was this or nothing. She'd have to figure it out. And with a single swift movement Blake took the rock in her hand and slammed it into the side of the soldiers head, the clashing of thin metal and stone ringing in the air as the man quickly slammed into the wall beside him with massive force.

He dropped his rifle and slumped to the floor dazed from the blow. His partner, now on alert quickly turned around in alarm, nearly stumbling back.

"Holy kark!" He gasped, his weapon slung over his shoulder as he frantically tried to ready it. Blake dropped to the body of the downed soldier and tried to grab his rifle, the thing was heavy, and the rope that kept it attached to his chest prevented her from even picking the thing up enough to even begin figuring out how to fire it. She just forgot about the rifle and frantically grabbed the handle to the blaster in his holster, unbuckling it and whipping it out Blake went to aim with shaking hands as the other soldier quickly drew her own weapon and shot without a second of hesitation...

The slug blasted right through her shoulder, the force of impact making her body jerk back and slam into the stone beside her as blood splattered across the walls. She fell into the dirt and rolled for a moment before landing on her back, gasping in pain as she clutched her right shoulder with her left hand and held the blaster in her right...she struggled to lift her head to look at the Soldier who simply assumed she was dead and went to check on the other...Blake took this opportunity to act. forcing her arm up despite the pain stinging her she aimed the weapon at the man and pulled the trigger. The first shot only grazing his arm and the second landing somewhere in his chest as he fell over. The sounds of gunfire rang through the skies and quickly she forced herself up onto her knees...leaning on the wall for support as she weakly stood up over the two soldiers and took aim.

She executed them both...closing her eyes and looking away as she pulled the trigger. Two pieces being moved off the board. Blake huffed violently...the hole in her shoulder causing significant pain as blood trickled down her arm and stained the gun she held. But the wound didn't matter...not now. Walking over to the other soldier and reached down and grabbed the other blaster he had on him as well and stuffed it into her jacket...then going to the control panel hidden in the wall she did the only thing that could be done...

Accessing the facility...using the same way she had gotten in before to finish this. And as those large doors opened the sound of loud audio came booming from the tunnel...the Lords must of been watching a video...

Good...they did not hear the gunfire.

Blake frowned deeply, stumbling into the tunnel as crimson fluid dripped from her fingertips.

She would finish this...whatever the cost. No matter the odds...nothing could stop her now.



Not even the smell of death could overpower the stench of still waters.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Blake Morrigan"]

As the predicted explosion failed to materialise and the girl gave every indication of horror at that revelation, the Sith Lord allowed himself a faint ghost of a smile. Near enough oblivious to the Force, the girl had failed to sense her weapon of choice being tampered with, blind to the tendrils of energy that had rendered the incendiary inert, more an oversized paperweight than a weapon in such a state. The young one had intended her victory to be final, but yet detached, something she could witness remotely but never have to truly experience. She would get no blood upon her hands because she would be so far removed from the end.

His own teacher had taught him that life was a fleeting and fragile thing, but that each single spark was unique in some fashion, each being a thing of potential: a resource that could not simply be discarded on whim. If you must take life, you owe that life the honour of death by your own hand. Only one who truly fails to appreciate a life - theirs or that of another - will kill from afar. That was the Sith way, and it was a lesson that the girl needed to learn. To her, death is merely a consequence, a revenge granted for the ills done to her.

She had much to learn, as far as he was concern. Techniques and skills, yes, but those were largely irrelevant. What she must come to understand is that all her suffering is but a drop of water in an ocean, a mere infinitesimal fraction of the suffering of a galaxy. This was all about her: her own feelings, her own drive for revenge, the child at tantrum, lashing out at those that hurt her. Such a thing is nothing compared to what the galaxy endures. The duty of those with power was to mould those without, teach them to use their suffering to rise above it, and become something more.

The girl had to learn this about herself, too: those she sought to murder had done her a favour, in ways she could not truly see yet. You would murder those that gave you the gift of self-knowledge, he reflected calmly, his senses extended outwards, dispassionately observing what this newest of candidates was up to. Suffering is the source of our strength, a means of igniting those deepest passions, giving you the tools to ascend your wretched state. She owed them her thanks, but instead she would give them her rage.

He could sense her at work now: the cold anger that stemmed from failure, the frustration that came from knowing her first plan had been thwarted. And then, later, a sudden shock of pain from her as her first foray into true battle turned ugly. A light went out, a flickering flame suddenly extinguished, a life gone, snuffed out like a candle. Your very first kill, he thought reflectively, his expression solemn, perhaps even resigned. It was murder, what she was doing now, but more than that, she was focusing on the necessary path to achieve her ends. The one she had killed was just an obstacle to be removed, and remove it was precisely what she had done.

Her sense of ethics certainly needs work, he noted silently. But she did not hesitate to do what needed to be done, and that pragmatism was perhaps her one redeeming feature, at least for the moment. The others will need to be established more firmly. For now, though, he simply had to see if she would survive her brutal initiation into the darker world that rose up before her. Though what she is now will be dead long before we see a result. What lives in place of it will be something else entirely.

Whether it would be a monster or one worthy of being taught, however, remained an open question yet to be answered.

 

[Blake Morrigan]

| [member="Tirdarius"] |​

This is where it ends. As the saying went, if you walk the path of vengeance be sure to dig two graves...but Blake knew, somewhere inside herself that by the time she was done, by the time all this was finished and the dust settled...two graves would not be nearly enough. She knew how this game worked, she knew the risk and the consequences. She had planned this day for years...the planning, the tedious rehearsal and rerunning...over and over in her head like the repeating real of a recording.

But here she stood. Silver eyes fixed ahead as crimson fluid trickled down her pale flesh, dripping from her fingertips in a quiet putter patter akin to drops of rain. Her vision blurred, seeing doubles as the blaring audio seemed to ring in her ears deafeningly. Shambling through the hall with the pistol held firmly in her hand as she neared the acropolis.

And after mere moments she had entered the meeting room. A group of men and women all sitting at their tables and staring at the projection before them. A Halovid displaying her homeworld and the capital ships that orbited Ke'lai. Blake recognized the formation of the ships from a time long past...the invasion of her world was playing, a voice over giving exposition as they watched.

Blake grimaced at this, gritting her teeth in fury she stepped forward, lifting the firearm up and taking aim at the backs of those closest to her, squeezing the trigger without hesitation and taking the first shot. Blasting the first four who sat quickly and watching as their blood spilled all over the table. Their bodies going limb and falling out of the chairs as the others were quickly alerted to her presence and panicked.

"What the-!?" A woman shouted, forcing Blake to avert her gaze to a woman exiting her seat and quickly picking up her chair, displaying an amount of reflexes considered impressive to the girl as she chucked the chair at Blake. To weak and to dizzy to really dodge, the chair slammed into her, knocking Blake over and making her crash to the floor harshly. The pain in her shoulder became sharp and made her gasp in agony, gripping the gun tightly and shooting a couple of shots at the woman until one of them had finally connected in her chest. By the time she had killed the fifth member the others had scattered from their seats and all ran across the room. A couple of them directed towards her.

Blake struggled to learn upwards as she shivered and pressed her back against the wall, attempting to lift her arm to shoot the man charging her.

But alas her reflexes had failed her, already weakened from the bullet wound and the fall to the floor the man was able to reach her first. Smacking her hand away and smashing his boulder-like body into the smaller girl, smashing her against the wall and then slamming his knee upward into her soft belly. Her eyes went wide as the air hesitated to escape her throat. Her knees becoming weak and the gun falling from her hand as the man took her by the hair and yanked her up forcibly. Her feet leaving the ground as the towering man held her up and against the wall.

"Heh, whats this? A little girl managed to get all the way out here and get in here alive?" He mused, taking his fist and launching it into her gut once again, the impact devastating as a her body quivered and she gasped for air. He grinned and did it again...and again, and again and again. The pain rippling up her spine made the woman shudder as pain wracked her body like a hammer to steel. Every strike making her vision blur and disorientate until her limbs grew weak and failed to struggle against his ruthless assault. When the man noticed this he loosened his grip and dropped her. Blake hit the ground and merely collapsed to her hands and knees as they staggered, struggling just to hold up her weight as her silver eyes scanned the room for a moment. Noticing the other three men going around from body to body checking the vitals of each of their fallen comrades.

Blakes mind began to dim as she spotted the gun that had been knocked out of her grip...lifting a hand off the floor and moved it forward in attempts to reach for it. However, her attempt was quickly met with denial as a foot came out of nowhere and kicked the gun away from her and back into the hallway where she had entered from. And suddenly the leg came back towards her as the mans shin made contact with her face, knocking the girl over and onto her back as a flash of light pulsed behind her eyelids. Before she could even open her eyes she felt him on top of her and found a pair of large beastly hands wrapped around her neck. She gasped, the grip becoming tighter as he squeezed harder and harder. Choking the girl as she gasped hoarsely for air.

She lifted her arms and pushed the mans face, digging her nails into whatever she could to make him let go of her, loosen his grip...anything. But no matter what she did it felt like his grip only became tighter and the precious oxygen less and less available to breathe. She began to gag cough helplessly, squirming as tears swelled in the corners of her eyes. Her vision became blurry as her hands remained pressed against his face...

As her world slowly began to become black all he could do was wheeze, her hands shaking and her eyes flaring as she panicked helplessly. She was not strong enough to fight this monster of a man...she was not strong enough...she was not 'good' enough. And with these thoughts reality began to set in...she could not accomplish her goals. Not as she was now. Just a weak, pathetic little girl...a delicate flower. A flower taking on a raging storm.

She would not survive this. The rose which had once bloomed would be destroyed by the time this was over. And as darkness closed in everything around her faded into blackness.

The game...was over now. An ending most tragic. A once beautiful innocence slain in cold blood. A rose striped of her petals...

Why must things end this way...

Do you know why...sweet tempter?

What do you think comes next?

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Blake Morrigan"]

He could feel the life being slowly choked from her body, sensed the lethal intent of the one with his hands around the girl's neck, that malicious glee of retribution that sparked at the soul when one had the architect of their misery close to hand. Had I allowed the girl to have her way, you would simply have been vapourised without ever understanding that it was she who took revenge, the Sith Lord thought calmly, observing the scene with a curious detachment. Here he was, observing murder in several forms: the girl's sloppy attempt to impose her revenge, and her erstwhile opponent now exacting his.

There was pain, oh yes: the sudden extinguished lives of those she had shot down in the confusion, random blasts of energy searing through the room to blast those lives from existence. Her own pain, as she was struck multiple times, vicious and lacking any consideration for her age or nature. What was this thing that was being slowly beaten to death? Nothing, really. Property, to be bought and sold, but truly worth less than a bent deci-cred, her every act the will of her owner. Her small disobedience here would only earn her a moment of worth: now she was a means to express base impulse, a violence carefully concealed beneath an outward veneer that thought itself civilised. You would murder her for no other reason than to see the life leave her eyes.

True, she had failed in her efforts to exterminate those that had wronged her, her creativity proving weaker than their resilience in the face of death. That her foe now took his own casual retribution was perhaps all she deserved: had she not sought escape from the clutches of slavery? In a sense, he is providing her with that, freeing her from all mortal burdens, such that she is no longer required to serve. Perhaps it would be best if the Sith Lord allowed her life to continue to slip away in the few moments she had left, slipping into that blessed oblivion that would finally give her true freedom.

And yet she knows what it is to serve. True, not of her own will, and not in any way that would do any good to the wider galaxy, but a person capable of serving was a rare enough thing: the kind that might acknowledge their own desires but put them aside for something greater than themselves. The Jedi proclaimed themselves such, but he had never seen that as anything other than self-righteousness, a means of justifying their conservatism in attempting to placate entropy. Perhaps this girl would be better with them, once they heal her mind and body of the wounds she has suffered.

Perhaps there might be a slender chance that she might do something more than that: perhaps she might truly serve a cause that would do little to nourish her, and yet would benefit billions. But that thread is a slender one, and is becoming thinner with each passing breath that she struggles to cling onto. If he was going to preserve her life, he only had a moment.

Releasing his grasp of the energies which served to conceal him from sight and from the senses of those that might penetrate such a cloak, the black-robed Sith stalked towards the man that struggled now with the helpless figure slowly having the life choked out of her. Two firm strikes delivered to the upper arms forced the fool to relinquish his grasp of her, his arms numbed by the precisely-delivered attacks, a simple push causing him to fall back whilst the girl struggled to regain some of what life had been slowly stolen from her.

"If you insist on taking a life, do so cleanly, girl," he informed her sternly, caring little for the discomfort, pain or shock that she was experiencing at that moment. He had given her a moment or two more of precious life, and she could expect little more than that. "Look at this," he scolded her, gesturing to the room around them, dishevelled and littered with the bodies of those she had killed so carelessly. "A moment or two more, you would be dead, your hurts unavenged, your tormentor free and alive to do as you wish. And you? Just another useless corpse."

Of course she had not intended to do her battle in such a fashion: her attempt to use explosives to kill these had failed only because he had carefully sabotaged her efforts. No doubt she will be furious when she learns of that, he thought with an amused smile, imagining that rage taking shape uselessly. A potent weapon you have no understanding of how to use. But failure had led to recklessness: an ill-conceived act of butchery that had come so close to backfiring.

"Embrace this second chance at life now, girl," he instructed her coldly. "I assure you, there won't be another."

 

[Blake Morrigan]

I beheld the earth,​

And, lo, it was waste and void;​

And the heavens, and they had no light.​

I beheld the mountains, and, lo, they trembled,​

And all the hills moved to and fro.​

I beheld, and, lo, there was no man,​

And all the birds of the heavens were fled.​

I beheld, and, lo, the fruitful field was a wilderness,​

And all the cities thereof were broken down​

At the presence of the LORD,​

And before His fierce anger.​

For thus saith the LORD:​

The whole land shall be desolate;​

Yet will I not make a full end.​

​

-- Jeremiah 4:23-27​

| [member="Tirdarius"] |​

The segments were finally falling into place.

Again the pieces on the chessboard moved with menacing synchronicity, each singular effigy rotating according to the master player's plan. There was no discernible path for any one part of the plan; no momentary lapse of judgment to reveal any motion of the gears within ones calculating brain; all of it a seemingly random throw of the dice, a haphazard splay of cards, a careless tilt of pawns. No traces to be found anywhere, no footsteps on the floor to stumble upon, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. The girls life had been fading, waning into nonexistence so that she could linger in unfound places and mull over the singularities, the dangerous potential anomalies, of her schematics with peace of mind. And now...she found herself gasping for air, struggling with slow, half breathes as her vision returned to focused...observing the man who had previously been killing her as he went to check on another one of the survivors...

Blake grunted quietly...the agony in her body becoming more and more apparent as the young girl pushed herself up with weak limbs as the voice of a mysterious being ringed in her mind. The voice...spoke a truth that Blake had wanted to simply ignore. How was she supposed to take their lives 'cleanly' when she herself had been dirty for so long...she was just another dirty soul in desperate need of being cleansed. Perhaps death would be her cure...but not before the destruction of all before her.

Revenge. It all boiled down to revenge. To the succulent breath of satisfaction she would know the moment she drew the knife across betrayal's throat and gathered the mystified peons back into her observant embrace. The Monarchy had been careless, as of late, it was true -

- but no more.

Blake made a thoughtful noise, her bright silver gaze wandering across the speckled patches of light that danced across her vision, her expression coolly pensive as she pulled herself up to her feet with her hands gripping the wall, contemplative. That she would suffer no further acts of monstrous betrayal was a given - that she would rectify the situation herself, if she were able, was a second testament to her secretly festering bruise of anger. Physically, she was spry as any long-lived creature of cunning, but still no match for trained soldiers or dexterous, slippery knights. Yet there was no time for fruitless wishing to turn back the grinning scythe of age and time, no quarter for moaning feebly about the wiles of a ticking clock. Each factor in hand meant she could do naught but shuffle her mental chess board in order to draw blood - and she would need a surgical precision to close the vice. Even a hair's breadth of room for mistakes was unacceptable.

It was time to collect the souls she'd been sold, like the Morningstar himself reaching a fell and fiery hand above the waist of the world to pluck and plunder the sinners from the saints.

And as the girl lifting her head to the two men on the other side of the room conversing with one another she began to weigh her potential options for finishing what she had started...she could not simply attack them head on, that would undoubtedly result in failure. And she did not see any weapons laying around that she could use.

But there was nothing...nothing she could utilize into some kind of plan or strategy. Just an empty room with her enemies blocking the only way out...the option to run was even out of the question.

Doubt began to swell in her chest, and as the fear in her heart came to a boil. And when the man who had previous attempted to take her lift noticed the shuffling of her feel behind him and turned to face her the girl became nearly paralyzed. Her quickly jumped to his feet and stared her down with a wicked grin.

"How the hell are you still even breathing?" He growled, clenching his fist as he approached, those massive feet stomping audibly as he closed the distance between with with lethal intent pouring from his very being.

She could not do this...not as she was now. the sudden pain that erupted from the markings on her arm seemed to intensify greatly. Her eyes drew downward to the black ink which seemed to fume brightly as another voice erupted within the depths of her mind, so loudly that it felt as if the words echoed all around her...a familiar voice. Not the same one she had heard mere moments ago but a voice from her past...the same voice that hunted her nightmares and ruined what little dreams she had. The voice of the one who had given her that blasted mark on her arm.

"Foolish girl..."

The voice hissed, the agonizing pain in her arm incapacitating her as she clutched it painfully.

"You don't want it all to end here do you? It would seem...you have a purpose for living." The voice explained, the pain within her arm only growing more agonizing as it went on. And the man before her finally stood inches away, he quickly grabbed her by the neck one more and pushed her onto the wall. Those massive hands strangling her once again as he lifted her up onto the wall.

"Just karkin die ya little queen!" The man snarled, Blake clutching at his hands and struggling as the voice continues to go on casually.

"If i grant you a taste of true power...could you go onward? I propose a deal. In exchange for this small glimpse of power you must sacrifice all you hold close to your heart...Accept this contract and you accept its conditions. In this worthless existence you have resided in for so long you will live unlike any other...a different providence, a different time...a different life. The power of darkness will force you to embark on the path of blood and condemn you to a life of solitude and agony. Are you prepared for this?" The voice went on, the woman squeaking quietly as tears streamed down her cheeks. Struggling to breathe once again as she mentally screamed.

'Yes! Yes I accept!' She shouted within her mind, neigh her very soul. She was prepared to give it all away...to attain power, she'd do whatever it takes...even sell her soul to the devil himself.

The voice chuckled darkly, her eyes beginning to burn intensely as she sealed her eyes shut as the last fur desperate breathes escaped her.

"Open your eyes child...and look through the windows to their souls. Make them feel as you feel." The voice would slowly whisper as it faded into nothingness. "When you are ready...seek...me...out."

And with that there was nothing but silence...no ringing in her ears...no beating of her thrashing heart...no struggle to breathe her final breath.

Her soul was sold...

And as the veil was lifted and her eyelids opened, her bright silver eyes had faded into a bright burning gold. Her steady gaze wandering down to the man who held his hands around her neck as his blue gaze met hers...and in that single second...that one instance the grip he held on her loosened...but he did not let go. His eyes simply went wide and his body froze as the two held eye contact for several moments.

And slowly...his body trembled. Tears of blood streamed from his very eyes as every cell in his body shook painfully. Agony burning within his very soul.

She could sense it...she could sense the pain within him despite it not being outwardly expressed. He stood there, paralyzed and suspended in endless torment as Blake slipped free from his grasp and fell to her feet. Her back on the wall while still remaining under him, coughing heavily and watching as he remained statuesque, his hands up above his head as if he were still choking her. Slowly, she moved past him, her eyes still steady on the man to see if he'd move or not but he just kept standing there with blood running down his cheeks and dripping onto the floor below. And after several moments...he simply collapsed, crashing to the floor like a ton of bricks.

Blake jumped, her eyes wandering over the body before moving her hand over to her eye to rub the tears away. But when she withdrew her own hand she noticed...blood...blood from her tears?

Blake stared at her hand for a long moment trying to understand what was happening to her. But as she did so the shuffling of metal rang behind her. The girl slowly looked over her shoulder to see the final survivor. An older man with a comb over and glasses...pointing a blaster at her and trembling.

"W-who the hell are you!?" He shouted, trying to steady his nerves to correctly take aim at the girl as she simply stared for a moment before turning to face him. Her gaze wandering down to her hands as she herself shook...only to clench her hands into fist and smile. A warm, delicate smile...

"My name...is Blake Morrigan...i'm an orphan from Ke'lai." She mused quietly.

The man shook his head and shouted.

"Why the hell are you doing this!?"

Blake remained quiet for a moment before replying.

"I'm...not sure. At the start...i thought i was doing it for my people...spark revolution and be something more than what i am...but now. I think i understand..." She explained before glaring back up at him, her gaze meeting his eyes and watching as he froze in place. "I'm doing this...because i hate you all...so much...for what you did to me...for what you did to us. And now you will feel...my...wrath!"

Her eyes went wide, and in an instant the man began to scream...he screamed at the top of her lunges. Clawing at his chest and flesh and writhing as he dropped the blaster and collapsed onto the floor in agony. Flailing about like a fish out of water for several moments before the pain in his mind became so real...so potent that his heart began to over exert itself. And eventually simply failed...

The man went limp. And her eyes began to burn as blood dripped from her chin...what had happened to her? What did that...voice do to her?

She stumbled into a chair at the table...sitting herself down and breathing heavily as her eyes slowly began to shut.

This power she was given...she could feel it fading and something within herself wanted to clutch it close and never let it go.

She needed more...with power like that...she could change everything.

But now...she just...needed to rest.