Star Wars RP

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Make me more than I am

I am a son of the Mountain.
Aboard his ship, Marcellus slept silently in the small cargo bay he had converted into a bedroom. In the cockpit, two members of his gang piloted the ship towards Leritor. He had planned to immediately move his plans forward after his meeting with the Vicelord of The Confederacy. However that meeting had bore fruit the crime lord had not expected. In return for his service, the Vicelord had given him access to something he had never had before. Power.

Did he believe this witch could really make him a stronger warrior? Not really. But if the reputation of the Vicelord was even half true, he was one of the greatest warriors in the galaxy and even Marcellus could not ignore that.

There was a soft shift that roused him from his sleep. Pulling his hands from the back of his head he stretched out, a rather animalistic sound erupting from him as he did. “Damn… That was quick.” Rolling off of his bunk, Marcellus ran a hand through his braided hair and made his way for the cockpit.

The pilots flying the ship, a pair of Duros thugs named Katos and Ratos, were in the middle of powering down the ship’s systems when Marcellus walked up behind them. “That it?” Skipping the greeting, he jerked his head towards the viewport. Through it he could see a crude housing formation, which was actually reminiscent to the projects on Nar Shadaa which Decker had made his temporary home. However this housing was carved into the side of the mountain.

“That's it boss.” The metallic voice of Katos reported, before pointing to the mountain range behind the structure in front of them. “The coordinates we got led us to this mountain.”

“Yea… Metus said it’d be carved on the side of the mountain.” Marcellus muttered, still looking over the range with an eager gleam in his eye. Marcellus ran a hand over his belt, smiling once he found his blaster pistol.

“Witches creep me out boss…” Ratos muttered, before receiving a less than empathetic glare from Marcellus. “Do I look like I care?”

“No, I'm just saying…..I used to fly transports to Dathomir… The witches there were scar-”

Ratos’ words we're cut when Marcellus reached around the chair, his hand slamming into the alien’s throat. “Only thing you gotta be afraid of is me if you keep pissing me off with these crybaby ass stories.” In his arms, Ratos struggled for air but was too weak to pry Marcellus’ grip from his throat. Watching the display with apparent concern, Katos winced as his brother’s breath grew more and more ragged.

Finally releasing the Duros, Marcellus looked down to both of the brothers. “Keep your mouths shut and get my damn ship ready for take off. I'll be back in a little bit.” Turning from the cockpit, Marcellus slapped the off loading ramp so he could make his way down onto the planet’s grassy surface.

“Idiots.” He muttered, making his way towards the path that led to the mountain housing he saw from the cockpit.
Deep in the mountain that her home was being built in side and inwards. Petra had completed her binding spell to the planet. Standing over her cult’s symbol, the newly bless world had her blood and magic mixed into its own energies. This was done on all planets she visited. However, she was going stay here for a while, so more of her was added to strengthen the bonds of her and the world.

Her body reflected the spent powers she had. Bones and rotten flesh had appeared. The Crypt Keeper was more appealing than she was currently. The spell was done, but the results took a little time. It would not be long, but time was a factor. It was fine. All in the clan were busy working on the creation of clan and cult’s new home. They all knew why they were now there.

Admiring her decay hands over the glowing purple ichor blessed symbol, Petra was amused this time around. Now she had a mile walk from deep under the surface to the heart of the mountain. I was almost another half mile to where the stronghold was being built. So, the journey began for her. The rotten, decay body moved forward into the tunnel. Time walking back would allow the spell to do its thing.

Meanwhile, a ship coming near their still bring built stronghold did attract some eyes. A couple of sentry witches moved to greet the visitor. They were armed with their traditional ichor infused spears. They were stronger but not lightsaber resistant. They were told that no one knew they were here yet. Petra stated that government over the space would make sure. So the witches assumed the man approaching was from CIS. They were not their usual hateful selves with outsides. One merely greeted and asked what his business was.

[member="Marcellus Decker"]
I am a son of the Mountain.
Approaching the mountain pass, Marcellus kept his eyes locked on the path before him. A large mountain path that was inhabited by some weird ass witch cult. What could possibly go wrong?

As if on command, the sound of footsteps could be heard growing closer to Marcellus. His advance was paused while he took hold of the blaster pistols fastened around his waist. From the path, a small group of women approached him. Luckily they seemed to be in a passive mood, as their spears were not leveled towards the man. In contrast, Marcellus hands rested on his weapons casually, just in case.

One of the women called out to him, demanding to know his business here. His eyes moved from one of the sentries to the next, an almost bored expression held over his face. It would probably be faster to just kill these two and keep it moving, the only problem was he didn't want to piss off the woman he was here to see.

“Darth Metus told me I could find ya’ll here. I'm looking for the head witch. She's got something I could use.” He said, his tone taking a form of amusement. He would ask softly as he jerked his head towards the one who had spoken to him. “Why don't you take me to her sweetheart?”

[member="Petra Cavataio"]
The deity witch kept making her trek back up to the stronghold. She was slowly feeling the energies of the planet seeping in from her bare rotten feet. The slow flow meant the spell digging deeper and changing the world to her desire. The planet’s force and life becoming her own powers. This was her way of keeping an ancient spell going.

On the surface, the witches knew of Metus. They were adults when Metus was known as Isley, the Goddess’ son. If the outsider knew him. Then they believed that CIS sent him. However, their deity had left instructions about bothering her. They knew the spell would take weeks. Although they knew it had been three weeks since she started.

They did laugh at Marcellus. Calling one of them as sweetheart, they knew what a joke the man was now. The other one that Marcellus was not looking at spoke up, “Let’s see… Goddess is busy right now. You have two choices, first is to leave and return in a week, or second is come back to the stronghold and wait patiently for her to finish. So what will it be?”

[member="Marcellus Decker"]
I am a son of the Mountain.
Marcellus took notice of the laugh that erupted from the witches in front of him. He returned their laughter with a sly grin before resting his hands on his waist. It would have been satisfying to kill them here, leaving their dead bodies to the dirt. However, he could not risk pissing off the very person he came here to see.

"I'll come up." He said, gesturing up to their encampment. "You gonna give me a good tour?" He jested, smirking a bit at the two before stepping forward. His brown eyes fell over the two women before he exhaled softly with a curious expression. "Who is your Goddess? Is that the witch I was sent here to see?" He asked.

[member="Petra Cavataio"]
One of the witches motioned Marcellus to follow and the other waited to follow behind him. They were taking him back to the temporary housing they had set up outside of the mountain side. One behind spoke the most in their trek. “There is much to show since we just started to build our home. The most important thing is Goddess blessing the world so the land will bend to our wills with ease.” The one in front cough to hint to the other to shut up or move onto something else to say. So she did, “Oh yes, Goddess is the witch you are here to see… if Metus sent you here, then it is Goddess Petra Cavataio you need to see.”

Once at their little housing complex, they did ask for him to lock him his weapons. They were not need there. The witches made it clear it was better to go with what they wanted than resist. These women and men in the complex were not just Dathomirian. They were proud members of the cult that Petra had. Besides the cult being called Cult of Petra, it had a name that even Metus called it, Cult of the Flesh. Each night in Marcellus some of the witches showed him one side of the cult.

A Week Later

Petra had been walking slowly back to the surface, so her body could recharge, and spell spread out from the source. Stepping into the sun from the cave’s entrance, it felt refreshing on her skin. Like always, she was au naturel. One of the many witches approached her and gave her an update. Petra told the other to find the guest and bring him to her. She remained to bask in the sun for the time being.

[member=Marcellus Decker]
I am a son of the Mountain.
Marcellus was unsure of these witches. It was not fear, yet the fact he knew next to nothing about them. However he would not let an opportunity slip through his hands without giving a true attempt. When the witches brought him to his temporary lodging, he was slow to relinquish his blaster pistols. They were his main defense in case any of this cult sought out his kidney in the middle to the night. In the end giving up his blasters was an outcome he had prepared himself for, an eventuality even.

The first few hours was incredibly boring. Marcellus had not brought anything to keep himself occupied, so sleep was his main activity during his stay.

However one the sun had crested the mountains, he was able to enjoy the hospitality of the cult. Each night the witches would see to his entertainment, and he was not disappointed.

A week came to pass slowly, albeit event fully, and Marcellus had checked in on the rodians he had tasked with bringing him here. They had only brought enough provisions for a few days so Marcellus sent the men to acquire what they needed while he waited for the witch goddess. Finally, one of the witches came to Marcellus to bring him to the leader of their cult.

When he saw her, Marcellus offered a brief gaze as he took in the woman’s appearance. He was expecting someone older, someone less attractive, yet the woman before him seemed fairly innocent by nature. Of course, if what Metus told him was true, she was far from it.

“Darth Metus sent me. He told me you could give me power, make me stronger. That true?” He would ask, holding his chin up in a motion of partial disbelief.

[member="Petra Cavataio"]
Taking a deep breath in, Petra enjoyed the sun shining down her body. Jewelry finally fitting with being restored. She did reach up and adjusted her necklace. It had moved to the side and now was centered. The sun and air felt nicely enough to talk about it more since there was a phobia about clothes and all. So, she was dressed in her normal outfit of jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her bare feet always loved the feel of the ground over the metal flooring of the ships she had to be on in this move. Toes relaxing out and then clenching the ground. It was how it was supposed to be.

While enjoying how everything felt, one of the witches brought the guest that came a week earlier. He did not wait for anything and jumped to the point of his visit. It was nice that there were some still like that. Petra found it refreshing. At the same time, it was amusing that her son sent a man to her for power and strength. The request was simple and little bit of a bore to Petra. So many wanted power and strength; however, many never grasped what it really meant. End of life came quickly to those. She had just mixed her life, blood, and force with the planet. The binding was happening.

This made her a little more open to the idea. It was a test of what she could pull from the world. Petra walked passed by him. Her firsts words to him were emotionless and command. “Follow, and tell me what makes you worthy of such a blessing, Marcellus.” It was an old trick by using her witches’ minds to get information about another person. Why probe Marcellus’ mind when her witches would welcome it.

[member="Marcellus Decker"]
I am a son of the Mountain.
There was a moment where Marcellus eyed the woman before him with a searching gaze, almost questioningly. Could she really give him everything that Metus had promised? He ran his tongue along the inside of his jaw as he glanced around, almost as if there was an annoying tick coming from his jaw. When she spoke to him he would clear his throat and speak plainly. His tone was one that had a certain flame to it while he still maintained that smart-assed tone of amusement.

"Worthy?" He said, the words almost coming out a scoff.

"Look, I ain't done anything in my life to make me worthy of anything, alright?" He spoke the truth, not holding back regardless of who he spoke to.

"The galaxy has been the same way for a long time. Every now and again someone gets the chance to make a dent in that boring ass cycle. It's my turn to make a dent." He enthused, pressing his hands over his chestpiece as he spoke.

"I'm a fighter. I'm not worthy of anything, I take what I can and use it to make myself more than I was."

"If you can help me, help me. If not....I got a ship to catch." He jerked a thumb back the way he came, raising his chin a bit to accent his point.

[member="Petra Cavataio"]
Petra stopped with a big smile on her face. He wanted power and strength, and he was showing a bit of what could be. She licked her lips while the smile kept going. Using her toes, she turned around. Her eyes looked him again. While she did that, she walked back to him. The man was taller than Petra, but she had ways of fixing that. This one was not her ways. It was just a lazy way.

Hands moved over the chestpiece when she got closer. Sliding up, they curled inward around the top and she pulled him forward by the collar to get him to lean towards her. Then she licked him. Her tongue went right over his lips. They were what spoke his words. Truth had a taste that she liked to believe she could pick out.

Soft moan came as she released her hold, “Oh what a fine piece of clay you are.” It was all Petra said for the moment. She moved around him as she let her hand slide over him. Then she spoke up, “This time, really follow or you’ll just remain a fighter that has done nothing.”

It was little jab at him, but his attention needed to be grabbed. When Petra knew he was following, then she made sure a hint of her power was shown. It was needed as the tunnel she came from was more her height. He was taller, so he would have lean over which could be bad. A simple hand gesture at the tunnel, and it reacted to her. The opening cracked and move to expand. It kept opening until a rancor could easily get through it. That was show of power, but same time to test corrupting spell over the world. It did not stop with the opening. The rest of the tunnel she was walking into expended too.

[member="Marcellus Decker"]
I am a son of the Mountain.
Petra's close proximity didn't seem to bother Marcellus in the slightest. Though he did arc a brow at her as if inquiring to just what she was doing and why. No, she didn't seem someone like Marcellus whose desires entirely ruled her, but he could have been wrong.

As she ran her hands onto his chestpiece he felt her tongue run against his lips. At first he didn't make a move before he spoke to her in a mocking whisper. "Like what you taste?" He inquired before she called him a fine piece of clay. He arched a brow at her words before exhaling a bit. He'd found a nut job who likely was toying with him. If she was, he would break her pretty little neck. In a moment he glanced over her neck and envisioned wringing the life from her.

As she made her way towards the cavern, Marcellus was forced to pause his approach. It was....growing. Having never seen the like, not even from a Jedi, Marcellus was stunned for a moment, His brown eyes stared at the display before he returned his gaze back on the woman before him.

Maybe he wouldn't kill her just yet. "Yea....Whatever you say."

[member="Petra Cavataio"]
Walking down the tunnel, it continued to expand for them. About a few meters ahead of them was where it was ahead of them. Petra took this time to start getting the rules laid out. “You want to be stronger and powerful… You will have to devote every cell to this cause of yours. Once the deed is done, time will not matter. You will be forced to focus and fine tune the new self. Failure means the destruction of your body, mind, and soul. You really want to give up everything for this desire of strength and power?”

Petra was not trying to scare the man. She knew the costs. It was seen before. The wasted bodies that she poured power of the force into. They made for good little mindless slaves to use against an army. They were hulking beasts from the additional changes she had down once they failed. She would see if this man would make it through or just fail.

[member="Marcellus Decker"]