Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Duel Rage Bait | Nilira Vornix vs. Anet Raine
- Thread starter Anet Raine
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Nilira Vornix
Character
Tag:
Anet Raine
Nilira was yanked straight up off the ground, and held eye-level...A devious grin spreading across Nilira's face still however, as she let herself feel again for what felt like the first time in years. The fear, the joy, the anger. Oh the anger, all of that she had buried beneath her apathy coming rushing out as she kept gaze on Anet, as the Acolyte flicked her wrist out for a moment,
A sudden burst of magic erupted from her hand, aimed directly at Anet at point-blank range. The other Acolyte thought Nilira couldn't fight. That's what she had let the other Acolytes think, as she hid herself away in the library, in her dorms...but the Codex had taught her so much, and now she had an excuse to try it all out!
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Historian
Her grip tightened around Nilira's collar as the acolyte dangled off the floor. As their gaze met, Anet's mask would undoubtedly return the favor as a result of that eye contact.
Anet's mouth parted lightly, as if to say something, but then Nilira summoned a bit of deadly Sith magic and shot it towards Anet's chest.
A terrible feeling ran up the half-pantorna's spine - a warning of the danger to come. It was too late for Anet to move out of the way. The bolt tore through fabric and reached flesh beneath. Her fingers released the girl as she stumbled back.
A desperate, bitter defiance allowed the ascending Sith to draw from the wellspring of her mask, drunk from the day.
Through the torn fabric, a spot of bare, bloody flesh peeked through, but it was no mortal wound. What energy did not kill her was absorbed, and her own body raged stronger, rippling outward in the Force with all her intent to push Nilira deeper into that fear, joy, and anger.
"Do you want to kill me, Nilira?" She asked, all too amused... but also, frantic and breathy. "Or are you just happy to see me this way?"
Nilira Vornix
Character
Tag:
Anet Raine
"No, no. Killing is not what I want. To tug at your strings is what I want. This rage, this control over people."
It made her feel strong. It made her feel as if her lack of physical strength didn't matter, as long as she could manipulate. She could control. A wheeze escaping her lips as she gasped for air, keeping the grin on her face as she could taste more anger. More rage. It was like nirvana for her as her eyes darted around in thought, trying to figure out her next plan.
Rush in for a close range attack? No. With the Lightsaber that would be an easy mistake. Continue to try and get Anet angry? No. She knew the plan now. All the Acolyte did for now was back away slowly towards the exit, towards the walls. Even as there was that sickness in the pit of her stomach, twisting and turning, begging her to relieve herself of today's breakfast, she kept herself steady. She let people underestimate her. It had always been her goal. And now she was at least somewhat showing off her true self.
Historian
The blade continued to spit flares of uncontained plasma. It seemed the Sith's rage (or was it delight?) only increased the weapon's instability.
Anet stepped after Nilira, maintaining a deliberately slow pace. She was in no rush to close the gap - if anything, she was savoring this little exchange.
"Why does it feel good, Nilira?"
Blood continued to dribble down her wound, soaking into the black robes.
Nilira Vornix
Character
Tag:
Anet Raine
"Don't think I'm letting you in my head. You want to know why it feels good? Well. You're tough outta luck."
Nilira kept herself backed up against the wall, slowly making her way towards the exit. She knew what this was about. Anet wanted to figure out what made Nilira tick. Made her realise how good the Dark Side felt. All of that psychotic mumbo jumbo. The mumbo jumbo one believed in to make themselves feel strong. To make themselves believe they were free.
The kind that Nilira didn't need. It was meaningless to be smart. Meaningless to be strong. Meaningless to be powerful. But that also meant chains were meaningless to her. Prisons were meaningless. Nothing could keep her trapped, for to see no meaning in anything was for her to be free.
Historian
Those who had been in the room scrambled, ducked, or fled.
She brandished her ignited blade, spitting a few flares which ignited a collection of alcoholic bottles. The fire began to spread quickly, but Anet merely walked at that cool, deliberate pace. Eyes, behind the mask, kept entirely on Nilira.
"But you know why it feels good." She replied.
Anet didn't need to fish for answers. So long as they were the thoughts which occupied Nilira's mind. So long as the acolyte continued to feel the rush of having her life on the line, of drawing on that addictive power to save herself.
The psychotic Sith burst forth suddenly with a downward slash.
"Run, sithling!"
Nilira Vornix
Character
Tag:
Anet Raine
Oh, run she did. But now in the way Anet had would have probably expected, as the Acolyte turned herself around and run straight up the wall she had been bracing herself against as Anet brought brought the plasma beam down. The flames hadn't been something Nilira had been planning for, but it just meant that she had to be more careful in her landing as she kicked herself off the wall to land on her hands and knees, behind her fellow Acolyte before rushing forward.
There was a chance that this wouldn't go well for Nilira. She hadn't put much of the physical aspects of this into practice. Most of what the Codex had taught her, she could experience through the Force, but this was a martial art. She had practiced it herself in her dorm, but this was a completly different beast as she rushed out to try and grab Anet's lightsaber wielding arm from behind, trying to get in close to wrap herself around the arm to get it into a joint lock. This wasn't an attempt for her to try and kill Anet, the fight wasn't even an attempt for her to humilate the other Acolyte. It was purely to show that people underestimated her and she wouldn't always act as pathetic as people believed.
"I. Will. Not. Run. Anymore."
Historian
Anet panicked as Nilira pulled a fast one on her, recoiling and reclaiming her bearings just as the acolyte grabbed her arm from behind. The half-pantoran yanked, but that did little good.
With the Dark Side swelling through her, ripe from the terror and bloodlust of Humbarine, rational thoughts gave way to base instinct. Anet didn't want Nilira to have her. She didn't want to lose. To be embarrassed. Shown up by the likes of this broken girl who challenged her and insulted Kirie to her face.
In a fit of impulse, she summoned the Force - perhaps a bit too eagerly - and vanished from Nilira's grip. She reappeared a split second later, just a few feet away from her opponent. But the cost was immense. Her mask hemorrhaged power that Anet hadn't fully controlled. It caused the flames around them to grow, swallowing the whole room in fire. An arena that kept them locked inside and quenched on dwindling oxygen.
Anet heaved, reaching with the Force to draw her lightsaber back to her hand.
"You... Brat!"
Nilira Vornix
Character
Tag:
Anet Raine
If she had expected Nilira to be surprised by her teleportation, Anet would be sorely disappointed. Nilira had seen it before. Back on Coruscant, back when Neriah had still been alive. Before she had been murdered by Kirie and the betrayal. All of that still dwelled on her mind but she broke out into a grin, as she spun around to face Anet.
"I'm the brat? Here I thought it was you. The pathetic Pantoran. The turbulent toddler throwing a tantrum over the Dark Side. I wonder...Did your parents not show you enough love? Is that why you've thrown yourself in with /that thief/?"
As much as Nilira snapped and taunted away at Anet, the Acolyte kept her breathing steady. Controlling her heart rate, the amount of air she needed. It was something she was well experienced in, keeping her cool. Limiting the amount of wasted energy. It was all playing into her plan, as she constantly tried to aggravate Anet. Get her blood pumping. Her heart racing. Make the Pantoran breathe in more of the smoke. Whether or not she meant everything she had said didn't matter to her anymore. All that mattered was her proving herself.
Historian
"No, they didn't." She said.
It was the truth, actually, but not the volatile sore spot that Nilira may've expected it to be. "My mother wants nothing to do with me, and my father..." She cackled lowly. "Well, he's the biggest piece of shit of them all."
Contrary to Nilira, Anet wasn't so good at controlling her oxygen intake. Her heart was beating faster and faster, from adrenaline and the smoky air, and each breath was a struggle.
With the lightsaber back in her hand, Anet extinguished the blade and returned it to her hip. She dipped a hand into the flames beside her, grimacing from the extreme heat while managing just enough to keep it from burning her flesh. Anet could feel the power, the wild and all-consuming energy of the fire, and she meant to wield it.
Her fist tightened, and the flames on the right side of the room burned hotter, climbing tall to consume the ceiling, too. The walls began to splinter and crumble, with bits of debris falling around them. There was shouting outside the room, as a handful of Sith were trying to figure out what was going on, and how to put a stop to it.
But while they struggled, Anet reveled, cackling more as she threw a pillar of fire in Nilira's direction.
"Isn't this fun?!" She called out over the roar.
Nilira Vornix
Character
Tag:
Anet Raine
"I didn't ask for your life story. Though it is nice to see like Father, like Daughter."
Nilira could understand why Anet's mother would want nothing to do with her. Nilira herself wanted nothing to do with the other Acolyte but alas, beggars could not be choosers in what happened. For now, she kept herself cool. Collected. Her chest barely rising nor falling as she breathed. For all intents and purposes, she was a corpse walking as she kept her gaze on Anet
Then as the fire crackled and twisted beneath Anet's control, Nilira's gaze flicked for a moment as she threw herself off to the side to dodge the pillar of flames as the rest continued to burn around them. Heat continued to burn around them, adding to the heightened emotions. Emotions that Nilira was feeding on, pulling within her for as long as she could. She wouldn't let this bliss kill her, but at the same time she couldn't allow Anet to die either. As much as it might bring a modicum of satisfaction.
And so she did not answer Anet's question. Her voice kept to herself. All answers kept to herself even as the fire roared. She let that be her answer as Nilira continued to dodge any flames thrown her way, dancing through them even as her robes began to cinder and burn, Nilira pushed and pulled the flames away from her.
Historian
Anet cackled at Nilira's quip. Even under the influence of the Dark Side, she wasn't so quick to fall for a comparison when it was obvious the acolyte knew nothing about the man, or his failings as a father. Besides, Anet didn't live to be a good person.
She lived to be a Sith.
The half-pantoran stopped throwing fire when it was clear that Nilira could manage her every lash.
"You're stronger than you look!" Anet called out over the flames.
Her voice was hoarse from the dry heat and dwindling oxygen.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Anet raised both her hands, pulling on the burning room with the Force and drawing the flames closer - helping them consume the dwindling space they had to move in, until the two acolytes were trapped in little more than an arena surrounded by a ring of fire. It took a great deal of her concentration to hold the flames in place, preventing them from inching closer. But she managed. And she reached for her lightsaber again, reigniting it between both hands, the red glow against her black mask.
Though Nilira might not have seen it, Anet's eyes had been consumed by an unnatural golden glow. She now fully embraced the Dark Side and the power that it gave her. The scholar, the philosopher, the smug and arrogant woman beneath it all was buried.
What stood before Nilira now was someone who had taken the first key step towards claiming the mantle of Sith Lord.
Even as her chest heaved. As sweat drenched her robes. As each breath sounded painful. Anet stood there, tall, proud, and violently gripping her wavering blade.
"You called Kirie a thief... If she can take it - then it belongs to her."
Anet didn't need to know the context to claim so with such confidence.
"But I don't think you care about any of that..." She coughed. "Do you?"
There was almost a smile to be heard in what she said next. "We have a choice, you and I," another cough. "We can continue to fight... And I'll probably die from exhaustion first, leaving these flames to consume you alive. Or, I can use what strength I have left... to carry us away from here. You'll have many more days to torment me."
Of course, there was something Nilira had that Anet wanted too, now. Her potential.
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