Ruiner
Existence. Pain. Death. Rage.
Four words that she screamed, ad infinitum, into the swirling black and smoke that swirled around her like a deafening maelstrom of chaos, a contradicting storm that forever expanded outwards and endlessly collapsed in upon itself and her like the jaws of some beast that consumed her and spat her out unrelentingly. She suffered in solitude, despite being constrained with so many others, as the very nature of a blade that killed yet denied the souls of its victims a death was doomed to contradict. Every moment - if one could recognize a passage of time in this gods forsaken hellscape - was filled with the faces of the conspirators that had worked against her flittering before her incorporeal eyes, faces that had their names repeated with her own screams within her mind as her lips shouted the four concepts that acted as tethers to the world she was torn from.
Her rage provided her a focus, a direction to keep herself from being torn apart and shredded into the smoke that swirled around her and threatened to destroy her identity in its whirling chaos, and that focus was fueled by her pain, pain generated in this never ending torture that was a literal denial for the death she had so deserved to depart the living with. And it was this divorce from both life and death, this focus provided by rage that was fueled by pain, that kept her essence whole, that pushed back at the deafening silence and denied her murderer the pleasure of snuffing out his nephew's only theoretical rival.
Her existence was one single focus, a burning beacon of rage and hate that burned deep within, a chilling wind of pain and deathless discontent - a single-minded desire to emerge from this primordial chaos and punish those that conspired to rid themselves of their sponsor. But it would not be of her own will, massive though it might be, that would break her from this tortuous cell that confined her - it was through the curiosity of her jailer, peering into the prison as one never should.
To peer in is to offer that which was trapped within to see a path out - and to allow light to breach the chaos and shine through is to force the darkness out.
And despite the swirling smoke and the impenetrable black expanse within, it was she that darkened the chaos with her presence - and it was she that the light forced out.
Rage incarnate, pain defined, death-bringing, existing to die -
"In the night, in your dreams, no matter where you sleep:
[member="Darth Prazutis"]
Existence. Pain. Death. Rage.
Four words that she screamed, ad infinitum, into the swirling black and smoke that swirled around her like a deafening maelstrom of chaos, a contradicting storm that forever expanded outwards and endlessly collapsed in upon itself and her like the jaws of some beast that consumed her and spat her out unrelentingly. She suffered in solitude, despite being constrained with so many others, as the very nature of a blade that killed yet denied the souls of its victims a death was doomed to contradict. Every moment - if one could recognize a passage of time in this gods forsaken hellscape - was filled with the faces of the conspirators that had worked against her flittering before her incorporeal eyes, faces that had their names repeated with her own screams within her mind as her lips shouted the four concepts that acted as tethers to the world she was torn from.
Her rage provided her a focus, a direction to keep herself from being torn apart and shredded into the smoke that swirled around her and threatened to destroy her identity in its whirling chaos, and that focus was fueled by her pain, pain generated in this never ending torture that was a literal denial for the death she had so deserved to depart the living with. And it was this divorce from both life and death, this focus provided by rage that was fueled by pain, that kept her essence whole, that pushed back at the deafening silence and denied her murderer the pleasure of snuffing out his nephew's only theoretical rival.
Her existence was one single focus, a burning beacon of rage and hate that burned deep within, a chilling wind of pain and deathless discontent - a single-minded desire to emerge from this primordial chaos and punish those that conspired to rid themselves of their sponsor. But it would not be of her own will, massive though it might be, that would break her from this tortuous cell that confined her - it was through the curiosity of her jailer, peering into the prison as one never should.
To peer in is to offer that which was trapped within to see a path out - and to allow light to breach the chaos and shine through is to force the darkness out.
And despite the swirling smoke and the impenetrable black expanse within, it was she that darkened the chaos with her presence - and it was she that the light forced out.
Rage incarnate, pain defined, death-bringing, existing to die -
"In the night, in your dreams, no matter where you sleep: