Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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!

Round 2: The Sound of Silence (Darth Ferus vs Braith)

EdOidkQ.jpg
Location, The Silent Desert, Tython​

The Sith-controlled, terraformed world of Tython held many splendors to behold, such as the new temples that had been erected in the name of the Dark Lord during the planet's conquest, but one of the most mystifying wonders of this Core world was its boundless wasteland of sand called The Silent Desert. Scientists could not explain it, but the sand of the Silent Desert had a sound-absorbing quality so powerful, that all noise died on the surface. The location was chosen to be an especially challenging place for the two opponents of the One Sith Tournament of the Lords. There would be no snap-hiss of lightsabers, no crackle of Force lightning, nor verbal taunts or hisses. If the two contestants were lucky enough, they might stumble upon the series of caverns that lay underneath the desert. This subterranean network of grottoes was the only area in the entire desert where the silence did not have an effect.

The two Lords would be taken via dropship to the Silent Desert and ushered to two strategic locations at opposite ends of the land. Once dirtside, they would find themselves in the midst of the most eerie absence of all noise. Not even a footfall could be heard. Robbed of one of their five vital senses, it was pertinent that the two duelists relied on the Dark Side of the Force to guide them to one another. As they traveled across the desert, they would have only the sound of their own thoughts to keep them company.

[member="Darth Ferus"] | [member="Braith"]​

OOC Info
Official rules are here.
OOC thread is here.
Note: For Round 2 we're adding a time-restriction rule. You will have 48 hours to respond to your duel's last post. If you miss this you will receive a warning and a reminder to post from your judge. You will be permitted two warnings. Should it occur again, it will result in disqualification.
Have fun!
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XssH5ST_GyQ

Silence.

Even as his ship descended, the unnatural silence of this desert was clear. Lord Ferus stood at the doorway of his drop ship. There was no dazzling jump to the ground, no crazy attempt to basically show off. Instead, his pilot would land in the designated area, and the Sith would disembark with a simple step off the platform. He was dressed in his simple outfit, this one far looser and thinner, for the sake of the dry heat. As before, he had his hidden blade and his golden lightsaber.

As his feet hit the sand without a sound, a frown formed. Never did he think such a lack of noise would affect him so. But, there was little the Sith could do now. As Ferus walked across the dusty surface, he couldn't help but remember his time as Templar Lord of Tatooine. He had known most of it's vast surface like the back of his hand, and more importantly, knew how to work the sands themselves.

Step by step he went, feeling the shifting grains beneath his feet, relishing the familiarity. This was, without a doubt, the only thing the Epicanthix enjoyed about where he was. This silence was haunting. A single hand swiped through dusty brown hair as his golden eyes scanned the surface, trained from years to spot something, anything. Where was his opponent in this wasteland?

Where was [member="Braith"] ?

[member="Sage Bane"]
 
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTT6picaCoQ[/media]​
What more of a challenge was there than to go into battle on a terraformed planet, amidst the sweltering heat of the desert, beneath the burning sun that her own flesh lacked pigmentation for protection from? A duel between two masters of their crafts with a staunch disadvantage against the Alua'an, yet Bratih stood silently within the transport bay of her dropship dressed only in a set of heavy robes and long gloves and pants, a scarf-like mask keeping the base of her face covered. From head to toe she was clothed, something ancient desert-travelers did to keep the moisture from their bodies either on the surface of their body or beneath it - sunlight in such heat simply evaporating water that would have been sweat after just a few minutes. While her foe was undoubtedly adjusting to the loss of his hearing, Braith stepped out into the silence as though she had never left the slumber of her oubliette for the last ten thousand years. Though it would most certainly prove to be a disadvantage for them both in combat, there was no psychological bearing on her for this continued lack of sound. Carried in her right hand was the very spear that had - at one time - spelled doom for hundreds and been uttered in the fireside horror tales of her home world for decades. The spear was double-edged and dual-bladed, one blade on either side, with inscriptions engraved along the center of the shaft - the entire weapon made impervious to lightsabers and blasters through alchemy. More than its blades and its inscriptions, it was heavy. The spear, in its entirety, weighed nearly quadruple the weight of the average spear, designed specifically to add weight behind each of her strikes.

Stepping out and into the light, the ship flying up from behind her, Braith knew there was no turning back, nor was there an easy way out. A sea of sand and heat stood before her and the enemy, [member="Darth Ferus"], a sea of sand that was literally the definition of ammunition to the woman. Though her species possessed incredible muscle density, and this physical strength, Braith's own signature use of the force, which she called 'the source', was to alter they very state of the environment - either by setting certain things in motion or otherwise directly altering the environment, and weather, with little conscious effort. Whereas the movement-oriented use of shaping was limited by range and power, the ability to alter the very environment was by far more wide-spread and oddly less taxing - she attributed to the magnitude of the skill and how much effort had been required. So, without words or further hesitation the goddess walked forwards into the silent desert, fingers wrapped tightly around the spear. Much like the Iridonian, her enemy - Ferus - was not in her line of sight, or at least not yet.
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mk0PdLZqZqU
"You know, I might be able to get use to this silence. Gives me time to think, clear my thoughts and what have you."
"NO, IT'S TOO QUITE! TURN OFF THE MUTE, TURN IT OFF NOW!"
"Calm down, you're yelling won't get us anywhere."
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, DON'T TELL ME NOT TO YELL!"
Step by step Ferus went, locked within his own mind now. The lack of sound only made the voices louder, tormenting, trying to break free. Two voices were clear as they rang in his head. The first, his old Sith Master, Darth Vulcanus. Calm, collected, yet with a deep rage. It wasn't an exact replica of the man, but it's what Ferus viewed him as. The second, clearly over the top and not as bright, was the voice of his 'father'. The Iridonian that had taken him in as a babe, and beat him into a weapon.
"That doesn't make any sense. Why are you replying to me if you can't hear me?"
"DON'T QUESTION IT!"
Slowly the Sith began to rub his temples, still trying to scan the immediate area for [member="Braith"] . The witch was here, perhaps close, but the voices made it so difficult to focus. With a silent roar of anger he would call out in the desert as much as in his own head, though the prior wouldn't be heard by anyone.
"Both of you shut up! She's close, and I need to focus. Bicker someplace else and let me do my thing!"
The grip on his saber tightened within his right hand, so much so he hit the activation button and the golden bldae came to life. There was no snap hiss or hum of the energy blade, much to the mans dismay. This silent desert was terrible.
Though, there was a boon to this. Already the sand began to shift around him as he walked, reacting to his emotions. Long ago, before he even learned how to use his fire, he learned of his affinity for the earth. Patient, sturdy, powerful. The Iridonian Epicanthix could crack the earth and move mountains given enough time and concentration. Both he was far too impatient to do. Earth needed focus, detachment from the rest of the world, and his fighting style was anythign but. It didn't seem right for him to be linked to such an element, but it was here in the desert that it made sense.
Sand was loose, free flowing as water. Here, he could make the sand bend to his will in anyway he wished, as quick as he wished. Sand slowly began to rise above his head in a sort of halo like fashion, only one that encompassed his whole body rather than just his head. Even distracted by his thoughts, he still displayed an unnatural power over the earth.
The sand soon dropped though, and the voices quieted down in a single moment. From the corner of his eye he saw something dark on the otherwise golden sand. Turning his head, he found her.
The Witch.
[member="Sage Bane"]
 
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgSn0SbQJQI[/media]​
The rays of the sun bore down like lethal droplets of rain, sweat already running down brow and the nape of her neck, and the glaring light was almost an insult to injury - yet the goddess did not waver. Standing stock-still, eyes sweeping over the bleak, drab, landscape, Braith searched the soundless dunes for her opponent, an enemy that she was rather unfamiliar with for all intents and purposes. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught the glint of a shimmering light - the activation of a lightsaber humming to life - and at once her attention was trained on the Iridonian with absolutely no regard for the rest of the planet - the planet which she'd indirectly assisted in corrupting through Silara, her dead thrall. A slight shuffle of her feet and she was facing the direction of [member="Darth Ferus"], distinctly aware through some predator-like feeling that she had been spotted. Slow, practiced, footsteps brought her forwards with little energy expenditure, she would need her stamina not simply for moving but for combat against the Sith Lord. Though her biology was drastically different from her foe's, being that simply breathing was sustenance for her and she processed events as they occurred much more quickly than humans and the like did, Braith would not allow that to be the determining factor of this duel, nor would she make it a point to show off the rarity of her species by making a spectacle of her anatomic parts.

Reaching the beginning of a decline in a dune of sand that she was trekking across, Braith observed the shimmering sand that rose above Ferus, not that such parlor tricks were of any concern to her. In days that the man's ancestors had walked in, it had been she that had ripped the clouds from the sky, rained lightning down from the heat of the air alone, and flooded valleys - simply lifting the sand above one's head with mere telekinesis was an aesthetic that made absolutely no impact on her until such silicone-bearing granules were weaponized. To her this was still a waking dream, one where she was finally free to stand, to walk, fight, bleed, and kill, though the deprivation of her hearing continued the sensation that she was still a figment of her own imagination, a product of ten millennia of slumber and one-sided conversations. Though she doubted that the Sith and herself would be fighting from a distance, still Braith called upon the blood of the source. Black tendrils that resembled a darker version of the witches of Dathomir's spirit ichor, although she predated their culture and race by almost as long as she had been imprisoned, poured out around her, fogging the air and darkening the sand that she walked across. A short spin of the spear in her right hand revealed a smirk on her lips. If there was a danger to be faced by dueling with Braith, it was not that she could force the wind into a tornado, that her lightning could glass the sand, or that her strength could best more than ten men, but rather the cunning she carried in that icy heart of hers. The spear she carried, which had been dubbed the 'Maw of Midnight', was buried in the force - in the very same manner one might hand from another force user with the force, keeping others from feeling its presence in the force and forcing them to rely on physical sight or hearing. Yet here there was only to be one of those senses available, and she would not be kind in the delivering of her blows today - she would make minced meat of this man and return to Corvus, to persuade her to stand by her side.

But that was another story entirely.

With fiery brilliance, her bright, shining, blue eyes gleamed from beneath her cowl as she walked on, preparing to allow her foe to come to her.

[member="Sage Bane"]
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1pCVLrK0LY
"Look! There she is!"
"I thought you were freaking out. Why the change."
"Well, I mean. Look at her! She's hot!"
"Yes, she is bundled up pretty tight for such a hot place. It's a wonder she's not melting in that outfi-"
"Silence."
Golden eyes were wide, staring directly at [member="Braith"] . He made no move to intercept her, or meet her. Instead, he just watched. Ferus's body on the other hand tensed and relaxed, as if anticipating something, anything. His body was trained for war, bred for war, lived for war. Alchemised with the assistance of [member="Darth Venefica"] , the witch would find she wasn't the only one with an amass of strength, speed, and perception.
But that would be learned upon their clash. Ferus himself knew nothing of this Moon child, for any memory of her was locked within the mind of his ancestor, a mind he had no access to. The golden lightsaber would be shut off, it's blade receding as a crazed grin formed on his face. The Darth could still hear nothing, feel nothing in the ground. There was no vibration of footfalls to give anything away. And more importantly, nothing to give away the shifting sand around him other than eye sight.
Both of his hands came up together, reaching out through the Force. The sand obeyed his will, and rather quickly the very same grain would begin to rise in front of him, and condense. Slowly his hands would curl into fists, making the flimsy dirt into something much, much more dangerous. The lack of sound made it a bit hard to tell, but if there was one, it would sound as if rocks were being slammed against one another. Slowly a hardened spear would be formed before him, made of dense rock and weighing much more than it looked. It would be easy to cut through, given it was rock, but that wasn't his issue.
Quick as a bullet he would flick his right hand outwards, sending the sand made weapon for the Witch. At the same time though, his right hand would be pulled back. A second spear had been formed behind her, and with the hopes that the mute sand would keep her attention away from such a formation, Ferus's goal was to at least impale her from behind with the surprise.
[member="Sage Bane"]
 
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t59vYoP6LkY[/media]​
As the spear of sand and rock formed before her very eyes she allowed her breathing to slow, her eyes to slowly shut, and rather than rely on the senses that could be fooled by a mere mental touch Braith felt the world around her with the force. Some called it 'danger sense' - the nickname given to the sensation one receives on instinct in a moment just prior to danger - but she knew it to be a far more refined skill than some primitive bestial urge. Like the black tendrils of smoke that curled out from her like the arms of a great aquatic beast she tugged and pushed at the ripples in the force, feeling the imminent danger of the aura of the dark side forming directly behind it. The pincer movement would have, perhaps, been rather sufficient to skewer someone who was ignorant to the whispers of the flow that these Sith called 'the force', but Braith was no apprentice, nor was she an ingrate. The only matter to attend to was dealing with both of these objects in a manner that she would absolutely ensure that they could not be improvised to strike at her in retaliation to her own counter - and she was more than certain that the moment she put up her own defenses in that the Sith Lord would try to break in himself, physically. A smirk formed, eyes beginning to open again, and with the unfurling of her fingers the 'Maw of Midnight' dropped from her hand and lightning cackled at her fingertips, the air around her immediately ionized by its immense heat and electric power. The moment the spear was flung towards her she turned, rotating so that she would be perpendicular to the two earthen javelins, and threw up both her hands. Lightning arced out from the tips of her fingers and palms, searing the sand beneath her as they crashed into the two spears and immediately vaporized any moisture that might have remained in the dry sand - melting the silicone and other granules of sand into a fine glass, which promptly shattered from the concussive force of her now dropping hands that levied a massive telekinetic push from above.

Rather than giving pause to her actions, the goddess continued her movements as gracefully as one would expect from a practiced dancer or practitioner of something akin to ballet and lifted her hands up, gesturing the the sky as though her cupped palms were offering - or perhaps demanding - something. Slowly the very atmosphere itself would begin to shift, and with a confident grab she moved her right hand out to grab for her spear, which had stood upright in the sand beside her. No words left her lips as she began to trek towards the Epicanthic Sith Lord, eyes set with a calculating and cold weight set atop them. Of course, as she walked, the dark smoke followed her like an extension of the robes that she wore, covering her from mid-riff and down as though she were wading in the dark side itself. If the man wished to contest her with the elements rather than face her with raw strength, she would grant him no greater pleasure than absolute defeat - not an ounce of pity in her icy, cold, black heart for arrogance displayed so openly. Her fist, which held the Maw tightly, clenched and she ripped the bottom blade from the sand in which it trailed, releasing a massive wave of wind that carried a veritable wave of sand along with it, the heat moved upwards with it - a convection of sorts. If there was no rain on this hellscape she would make her own storm, and if this man wished to survive the battle outright it should quickly become obvious that different means of combat should be sought out - unless he meant to seek out a challenge far greater than that which he had ever known. Truly, an arrogant, holier-than-thou, god-complex was her forte, though she believed (if only because of her past upbringing and endless worship) that it was justly earned and right, a mere truth of her being. Perhaps the warrior would prove his mettle, or perhaps not.

[member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Sage Bane"]
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-lF0eF4XP8
"Ah.. Wo. I think she's trying to get us wet!"
"Yes, it seems she wishes to heat up the cloud and make it rain."
"Why would she do that?"
"Water conducts lightning. Maybe she's trying to fry us."
"Shut i- Wait, that was helpful."
So it seemed the voices in his head weren't completely useless after all. A single arm seemed raised up to protect Ferus's eyes as the wave of sand came for him, but with a single swing downwards, the sand coming form him returned to the ground, bent by his will. This was not simple telekinesis of the grains or the air around it, it was manipulation of the living force coursing through the earth. Usually he'd use this bond to try and hear footsteps and voices, but this desert.
Damn this silence.
But a challenge? There was something good to come from this after all. He couldn't bend the skies to his will or create a storm, but he could set off something deeper down. Both hands down by his sides, it would look as if he was just in a ready pose, but he wasn't. Deep down into the ground he felt with the Force, all the way down until he felt something new. Below the sand, below their feet, caverns. Caverns he could feel the vibrations of sound within. Red eyes flashed wickedly as he watched [member="Braith"] walk towards him.
Her domain may be the sky. But his was the ground beneath them.
Mustering up what power he could, the skin around his hands shifted to pitch. All of his Force energies seemed to be concentrated there. With his eyes ever on the witch, he would begin to move the sand under their feet. It would not be noticeable yet, less she continued to study the reactions of the Force around them, but it would be soon. Oh yes, he would bring her to his realm, where he was God.
 
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAGZ7c8V9SM[/media]​
The futility of the man attempting to bring the earth down, assuming it was the sand she was after, not the heat that it gave off - not the wind that was carried up into the sky while her pace slowed. Her smirk faded as her brow knit, eyelids set firm as her lips, frustrated with the impudence, the arrogance of one man to resist the divine power of one who thought in more than a single dimension - the arrogance to resist but not counter, to not strike back or at least raise a defense. Of course her instinct told her this was meant to be a trick, some concentration on another task, perhaps preparing for her to walk into range of some secret that she might not be otherwise aware of, but rather than play the part of a domino and come crashing down, nor the paranoid beggar and stand back, Braith took the mantle of the opportunist and loosened the grip she held on the spear in her right hand. It was forged of alchemy, every last ounce of its metallic form designed to kill, to be used as the weapon that would siphon the very stamina of those they struck with the force unable to perceive it - buried beneath the ancient runes that lined its shaft. Oh how she wished to speak, to mock this Sith in his audacity. The wind, the sand, they were all objects on the playing field, mere tools, and she had felt the way he had reached out to the sand - shaping. It was inferior to the absolute control of the very environment - which went much further than the air around them, than the rain that she could procure if she so wished. It extended to the fissures and faults that ran along the planet, to the plantlife that might have grown in this otherwise desolate world, or the clouds that would blot out the sun.

And blot it out they did, granted with the upward motion of the dark ichor that had been gathered around her for some time.

She needed not some fanciful rains, no lightning, what Braith required was a lack of sunlight - and though she remained as perhaps the sole remainder of her species, from a time before the Sith walked the galaxy as a foe to the Republic, before the Republic reached much further than the colonial regions of space, she was distinctly aware that if this man had half a brain there would be some connection made to her sudden disrobing, dropping the heavy clothing in favor for lighter gear, her skin red and blotchy from the heat that had been kept pressed against her skin. With as much clothing that she had worn over her to keep her covered from the sun, it was obvious that she had compensated by wearing very little beneath it - tight, breathable, shorts and a similarly hugging material on her torso with little coverage of her arms and shoulders, only enough to remain decent. Lightning arced from the tips of her fingers, surging from her right hand and into the spear that cackled and roared with the electricity that was immediately entrapped within it, much like a Sith blade might if it were to be touched by such lightning - their origins very similar. Her pale lips parted, she exhaled, and smiled as she pursed them. With a show of strength she leaped, legs propelling her almost directly horizontal towards the Epicanthix, recently-cut black hair flowing behind her while her blue and violet eyes stared directly at the face of her enemy, the man that she wished nothing more than to impale upon the end of her spear, a man that she would bring to his knees before she crushed his dignity. For what is a man but an insect, and what is an insect to a god?

[member="Darth Ferus"]
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeXoACwOT1o
"Deeper. You must pull deeper into the ground. She comes, unforgiving. Bring her to your domain."
The sand below his feet deep within shifted. Separated. Hardened. Golden eyes never once left the form of [member="Braith"] . The voices in his head quieted. Vulcanus, his 'father'. They weren't there anymore. As she derobed, the voice within his head sung out with familiarity. This voice? It wasn't his insanity. It was the spirit of one long lost to time. One who lost themselves in arrogance, bested by the mind of a mere child and locked away.
Her arrogance would be her downfall, just as this voice deep within his mind.
Deeper and deeper his connection went, his hands pitch to the purest of black. He was close, so close. Just a little more time. Let her continue to think herself superior, let her continue to press on as if she was a god.
And then it happened.
Her blade ripped through his left arm, severing down to the bone. As she had charged forward, his body twisted in reaction, to free himself from what would have certainly run him through. Thankfully though, as the lightning from the blade coursed through his form, it was attracted to the hidden blade on his wrist. It too was a blade made to absorb lightning, and it acted like a lightning rod, giving the man a little relief from what would have been a stunning attack.
But as she was close now, a wide and feral grin took over the face of the Sith Lord. She had come at just the right moment.
The ground beneath the two would give way, revealing a sink hole Ferus had made during all this time. The man would drop instantly, soaring to the caverns below. A temporary wall was made, making a tunnel out of hardened sand to keep the whole of the desert from filling where he wanted. As he fell, his focus would be on his arm, hoping the Witch would be surprised enough by the sudden drop to give him a moment.
Forcibly he reattached his arm, pushing the flesh together with the Force as he fell. His tears sank down onto the limb, their amazing healing property already stitching flesh back together. With an audible thud he landed in the caverns, on his feet. He could hear again.
Slowly his now red eyes gazed upwards, his whole body becoming the color of pitch.
This was his world now.
 
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wX1wPLjPhlc[/media]​
Surprise - at the sudden loss of foundation beneath her feet - quickly set in as she found herself falling through the sand, her spear having cleanly cut [member="Darth Ferus"]' arm in what appeared to be half. Of course to be in a state of shock was to give an incredible edge to her foe, and even taking the chance of allowing the Sith a moment to retreat was worth returning her mental faculties to a balanced set - although that happened long before they reached the floor of the caverns that seemed to snake out in every direction beneath the desert floor. The moment her feet touched the ground, momentum slowed by a telekinetic blow that dispersed her body's inertia and counteracted the speed of falling to less-than-painful levels, Braith was already looking towards where opponent had fallen. It was rather disturbing to see that, somehow, he'd re-attached a limb in a similar manner to her own body was able to regenerate from lesser wounds - though she had never lost a limb, nor did she plan to - but despite his swift recovery from what could have been potentially fatal, it was still she who had the upper hand, the proverbial higher ground. Right away, as they fell, Braith had connected the dots to what the Epicanthix had done the entire fight - how he had used the earth beneath their feet to counter blows, to resist the storms that she was planning to create and call upon - and by a simple series of deductions it became clear that the man had believed himself to be superior with control over the earth - perhaps believing that her ability to alter the environment was in some way restricted to the sky, the rain, the atmosphere above them, that she couldn't create an earthquake beneath them, open a fissure in the ground beneath his feet, or bring the temperature down here to a freezing, blood-curdling, frost. This man, this Sith, Epicanthix, whatever he wanted to call himself, had brought her to the worst possible place he could have ever moved the fight to - a world without natural, ultraviolet, light. No need for her to move cloud-cover over herself to avoid the burns, no need to wear any type of heavy clothing - in fact there was no longer a single weakness that this fool could count on hindering her. Above there had been the light of the sun that could have been used to beat her back, a simple ray of light would have been enough to cause her to recoil, but beneath the kilometers of sand and rock there was nothing but the dirt.

And the darkness.

"I pity you."

The voice was melodic, rhythmic, and echoed throughout the walls of the tunnel system, every syllable heard from where they stood for miles around. In her era it had been the night that had been her domain, and even more-so in places with absolutely no light whatsoever, where she could reach every surface, touch every heart, and break every neck. Her strength could fell terentateks with little contest, her awareness was sharp, refined, and she had trained under only the best - and though that was, quite honestly, a long time ago, she hadn't spent the years simply sitting around and feeding on the force like some whelp of a Sith that cowered from death - she had killed her rival, felled her foes, and only with the combined efforts of an entire society's masters had she been pushed back into stasis, and now this Epicanthix would discover that the saying of an eon in the present was equivalent to a moment in stasis was entirely true. Ten thousand, two-hundred, and ninety years to arrive here, on this day, as though she'd only been asleep for a handful of days at best. Braith smirked, her grip on the spear that drained the stamina from those it cut tightened, and she wondered if this overzealous master of the dark side could amount to the likes of the ancient Sith Lords - like Disciple - or if this era's masters were as dull and boring as she had observed through a puppet's eyes. Like the Maw of Midnight that she held in her hand, she, too, disappeared from the force - her presence not merely shrunken as art of the small would have it, but absolutely buried by methods of stealth. And the darkness that had flowed with her, trailed behind her even in that fall to the ground so far below the desert above? It wrapped around her, cloaking her and the metallic spear in her hand in their darkness so that she would not be seen, not felt, only heard. And if he expected the world of Tython, a world which she had lent her knowledge to the very Sith Lord that had subjugated it and corrupted its crust with the dark side, to bow to him and lend him the force of the ground with no resistance at all on her part, then perhaps it was going to be a harsher awakening for him than he expected.
 
There was a single sigh to sound off in the darkness.

Pity?

So this was another too big for their britches, so in tune with themselves they think like their above the rest. Slowly pitch skin began to turn back to normal, Ferus's thrill quickly evaporating. If there was one thing that killed any sort of enjoyment, it was the superiority complex. There wouldn't be so much as a single reaction to her fading away into the darkness. He could still feel her. Well, not her, but the vibrations around her in the ground. The desert above killed his ability to feel the ground, 'sense' people through the feeling of their footsteps.

With another sigh he pulled out his lightsaber, snapping the golden blade into existence as he just happened to glance around, boredom clear in his actions.

"You're boring, y'know? This was all so interesting, fun. Then you had to open your mouth. Why don't you just wander off now?"
 
The hum of the lightsaber was welcome - but the temper-tantrum he threw was not. Her eyes narrowed while her fist clenched tightly around her spear, rolling her eyes at what could only be described as sexist in the context of his words. So he wanted her to shut up? Perhaps she should burst his eardrums, make it so her voice simply would be the least of his worries. "Why don't you just shove that glowstick up your rear?" She retorted with a scowl. Perhaps she might be a bit, well a lot a bit, arrogant, but her attitude was most certainly not one of such impudence as his - to simply shrug off a foe for their choice of words. But the fact that this man chose to engage her in saber combat, she assumed at least, would mean she would easily be able to exact her frustration on him with physical blows from her spear that could eviscerate beasts of war with sheer brute strength granted by her species' abnormal muscle density, one which quite literally was a result of genetic mutation during the evolution of her people on a homeworld that had been destroyed by the Yuuzhan Vong during her slumber along with almost the entirety of her people. The Alua'an might be as hard to come by as a species, and they might have evolved a vulnerability to sunlight, but even the average woman was easily as physically capable as a large war beast - and years hammering out armor and weapons as the apprentice to a blacksmith only lent to this strength.

Of course the reason why her abilities with the force were less precise and more about control of larger, broader, elements (in the figurative sense), with less strain on her stamina due to the nature of altering the environment and other similar force abilities was because she had been far more capable with Juyo and Djem So than she was with precise applications of telekinesis, like gripping someone's lungs and crushing them or other specialist-like abilities, like Ferus' seeming ability to simply regenerate connections with limbs by merely touching the two together. Granted she was not the best at physical combat either - she'd been shown that by a Sith Lord during her formative years, even when she had been far more focused on fighting with a spear than she was now, and that man, ancient as he was, had simply been entertaining her. "Kark you." Braith hissed, rushing forwards with the clear intent to engage him in close combat, ready to make him apologize for his rude choice of words.

[member="Darth Ferus"]
 
If only he knew [member="Braith"] had assumed his healing ability was something as simple as touching his own flesh. If he did, he may have tried to abuse that fact. Sadly however, his regenerative powers were so limited to one single use that it often put him on edge. His tears, modified by the same ability that could shrink his presence, was a solution far stronger than Bacta, able to heal any wound or cure him of any poison.

But only once. He had to remake it each time, taking hours to even days depending on how much he used. He wouldn't be using it again.

Ferus raised a brow at the females anger though. It was unexpected to say the least. He had expected a much more mature response to him, but this. This was different. And different he liked. A wide grin replaced the bored expression, formed from a new sense of enjoyment he felt coursing through his veins. This translated into pure energy pouring into the energy blade of his, it burning with the raw power.

The abilities of the Sith spread over a multitude of areas. Sword play, Force Abilities, the like. He wasn't so spread he couldn't master the abilities, but he wasn't going to be a pure master like some. Rather, he made his own style, a meld between the differing skills to ultimately be unpredictable. As she came to him, he went to her, his form low to the ground as the thrill for battle returned. His blade would rip upwards, going to smash against her spear.

Alchemic steel was heavy, powerful. Normally, this would result in a lightsaber being battered away like a toothpick. However, the blade was filled to the brim with the Force, and upon contact it would release possibly his favorite tactic imaginable. An expulsion of pure energy to destroy anything in it's past, and knock back anything unable to resist it.

Might as well finally start the fight with a bang.
 
No matter the physical prowess of the Alua'an woman, even once having bested a young Terentatek with simply her hands, she was still as susceptible to being pushed back by the use of the force, especially a combined telekinetic burst such as what collided with her spear. Fortunately for her she was less winded than a normal human would have been, but nonetheless both the spear and her voluptuous form were immediately pushed both back and up from the ground by the sheer force of the concussive blow. Being a master of the art of Juyo, Braith was used to having to display physical strength and take hits that were intended fully to rip her weapons from her hands - which, of course, rarely had ever occurred - but it had been a rarity in her era to have so many powerful force users on one planet way out in the boondocks that was Pax Insul, which was situated literally on the edge of the galactic disc, so this much force still came as a mild surprise and a reminder that there were times that others might have the upper hand. Also a reminder that she was not trying to outright bring him to his knees yet. Though she was knocked back a good three meters, her feet leaving the ground for a good two seconds, the woman rolled with the punches and immediately used the wave-like momentum of the telekinetic blow to sway backwards and then push forwards with force-enhanced speed. She might have the anger of a nine year-old, but she certainly had the experience of a woman that had been put alone on the field to clear out opposing tribal forces on her lonesome, or with at best a small group to accompany one of the few force sensitives that actually aligned with her tribe.

She was, however, still miffed that he hadn't at least retorted back - not a single word or even a sigh to denote whether he had even heard her words - and while she most certainly didn't consider herself a Sith, at this moment even the logic-driven Alua'an was fueled by the fires of her anger. Perhaps it was the raw ferocity of the form she preferred, or maybe it was her need to be spoken to when communicating with others, but in any case it would only mean her blows would have hardly anything held back, much less would she feel bad if she were to accidentally teach this Sith Lord how the dirt tasted. Three meters and change was nothing when propelled by the force and extremely powerful legs - which felt slightly chilly, what with the draft coming in from the hole that was situated fairly high above the two - but even that small amount of time was crucial for someone who utilized the form that many Jedi and Sith referred to as the "Sith" style of combat, one which was far more aggressive than the others. As she closed in on the Epicanthix, now prepared for any similar tricks that he had pulled prior, Braith's body drifted closer to the ground, leaning forwards a bit both to position her body in a manner that she could strike from below easier as well as to remove herself from the more traditional height. Her spear, easily dwarfing her in length, was shimmied forwards in her grip, hands sliding down closer to the base of the spear, where the second blade was, and with lightning-quick reflexes the purported goddess lashed out with an upward-sweeping slash that was fully intended to cross over from the man's lower right towards the direction of his left shoulder, just as she arrived at a close enough range to strike out at.

[member="Darth Ferus"]
 
There was no pause, no restraint, from the Sith Lord. Here in this sort of fight, momentum was important, and any practitioner of Djem So would know full well to press on. As [member="Braith"] went back, Ferus pressed forward. Still a blur of movement, though certainly not to the Witch, he would appear before her as she landed onto the ground. His blade ripped through the air and once more filled with the Force, meant to once more blow the female back. It was a simple movement, a simple continuation.

​It was time to be ruthless.

[member="Sage Bane"]
 
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plR9Q4LWos4[/media]​
Speed seemed to be with this man, his movements almost familiar to the woman. It was very obvious that he fought with the outright aggressive, but mobility-restricted, style of Djem-So, or perhaps Shien, rather than the ruthless flurry of eviscerating strikes that was Juyo - though she did not doubt he might be able to at least mimic such movements judging by his consistent Niman-style combinations of telekinetic blows with forward-momentum strikes - and for that reason alone he was pushing her, it was difficult for her to keep up with the speed of a weightless blade while wielding such a massively heavy spear, even if her strength could manage it like a lighter sword might be to this mortal. Again the blow landed, immediately sliding her back this time, rather than knocking her into the air, and her hair was tousled around her ears. Still the man refused to speak, to address her, or to even spit in her general direction. But rather than try to dart forwards, as she had tried to do prior, she played the fight to her strengths while knowing there was no way she could make it to him before he could make it to her, even if she was fully capable of defending herself from a personal range. Behind her, perhaps fifteen meters away, was the rocky face of the cavern walls and she was rather certain it was the Sith Lord's intention to put her back to a wall where she would have nowhere to go, although in the context of their fight, it was perhaps better for the Epicanthix to keep her in the open, but she could admire strategy where it was due. Of course, she was glad to have worn lighter clothing beneath the robes that she had discarded, it made maneuvering around quite easier, and kept her much cooler in this rather intense fight.

While it was obvious that the man was likely going to try for another brutal blow of telekinesis, this time she was prepared to counter back with blow to blow, and though she didn't run forwards and instead stood her ground, Braith imbued the length of her spear with the force in a similar method to what the Sith had done to knock her back, only with a measured amount of strength to counter the force of his blows as she'd observed over the last few strikes. As with before, it had hardly even been two, three, seconds before she was already being chased down by Ferus, his saber coming in for another strike in a similar pattern to prior, though she assumed he had at least thought ahead enough to make it a bit less predictable. In either case, the top of her spear came up and collided with the midsection of the man's lightsaber, a small shockwave released by the contact of the two and the telekinetic burst issued due to their countering forces, but rather than relying on a single blade - and having to perform a costly reverse of her spear - the spear Braith held was equipped with a blade on each side, meaning that the momentum earned from having the two weapons clash with the explosive force of the two allowed for a much faster spin of the spear, the second blade spinning up to either strike out against the man or make contact with his lightsaber. Perhaps he'd earned her ruthlessness, but she was beginning to enjoy this little conflict - she might let him walk away from this, now that he was thinking with his muscles instead of that mouth of his.

[member="Darth Ferus"]
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bo-qweh7nbQ
A wall? Oddly enough, Ferus wasn't planning. Wasn't thinking. Instead, as his skin turned to pitch and his irises bloodied to red, he was thrilled with this fight. He didn't care to move her into a corner. Didn't care to talk. The boredom was gone, and instead his blood was boiling. As his second strike came around, he could already feel something was off, but he couldn't take back the strike. Commitment was a downside to Djem So after all.
As the two blasts hit he could feel the air blow back around him. His hood, which was low on his face. blew back, revealing a scared face. A recent interaction with a Mandalorian caused a line to go from above his left eye down to the right side of his chin. More importantly though, his eyes were wide, crazed. He was thrilled, perhaps way too much. With her blade coming back around though, he could do little to defend. So, with a quick swipe of his arm downwards, he brought the golden blade down upon the spear. Sadly, uncharged by the Force it flew from his grasp, away in the darkness that now replaced them both with the golden light gone.
He himself could only flip backwards to avoid the dangerous spear blade, leaving him unable to regain his lightsaber at the moment. But he could still act. On his way back in his flip his hand came around, releasing another raw blast similar to the one he had launched with his sword in style, but far, far more focused. Essentially, he punched [member="Braith"] through the Force, aiming for her throat to knock her back and keep the momentum in his favor.
 
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShBiBub-_UE[/media]​
A smirk appeared on her lips as she watched the saber fly out of her foe's hand and into the darkness, something which she would take advantage of to press her advance. The beating of her heart began to pulse in her ears, her head bent lower, her shoulders hunched, muscles flexed, and her eyes set on the repelled Sith Lord. It was true she was not comparable in speed with the man while they contested on foot, but while he did his little twirl through the air it was more than enough of a gap for her to break into a sprint towards the Epicanthix. She could see the light in his eyes, the light she so desperately wanted to snuff out - that thing he clung to, that hope for victory. Each step she made crushed the sand and rock beneath her heels, her fingers tightened and relaxed in intervals around the shaft of the spear, and from her body spread the darkness that had covered her, no longer requiring its cloak. If the Sith planned to look for his weapon's glow, it would require snuffing out the black ichor that flooded the cavern to expose the Alua'an's pale flesh. Yet even as she gained traction, as she neared the Sith with deadly force, she saw the gesture of the man's hand and her eyes widened quickly, only to tighten to slits while her smirk faded to a frown. Further she lowered her head, taking a massive blow to the right of her jaw, splitting her lip upon contact, and pushing her straight back, feet sliding across the ground while her boots tried to find purchase. So easy it could have been to simply throw her spear, to make that precise throw that she had made when she killed her greatest rival an eon long since gone, but that was far too easy, she was not interested in an anticlimactic end.

With a push of her right foot she countered the reverse momentum of her body falling back, temporarily pausing the movement of her body before she moved forwards again with renewed vigor, her lower lip streaming blood even as the strands of parted flesh slowly began to interweave, to patch the clotted veins that networked across her face and fix the open wound - a species' specific act of biological regeneration rather than some act of the force. It had been so long since she had felt such a heavy blow, one that filled her mouth with the taste of her own carbon-rich blood, and though the time seemed to pass even slower due to the adrenaline that flushed through her veins to accelerate the temporal depression that her species would have been so infamous for - had they not been wiped out during the Yuuzhan Vong war so many hundred years ago. Her lips parted, head turned to the left, and from her mouth she spat dark, red, blood before quickly looking back towards the Epicanthix. Each tick between seconds felt like the world had slowed, and each nerve in her face throbbed with the pain of the blow that had wounded her, the downside to such perception of time during such crucial moments, and what was likely only seconds felt like minutes, even hours, to the purported goddess before she finally made her way to the Sith, to Ferus. Braith's eyes glanced, momentarily, towards the spear in her hand, and she knew to fight with Juyo would be a brutal, but quick, death for the man if he was not on equal footing. But she did not care about such things.

She tossed the spear away even as her left hand balled into a fist and rose to attempt to connect with his side. It was the raw, bestial, fury that resided within her that she held contained - a side that she would never want [member="Corvus Raaf"] to see, much less experience.

[member="Darth Ferus"]
 
The reality of being an Assassins meant one not only accepted they would be killed at any point, but that to not take the kill shot when one could resulted in their own death. No matter how far gone an Assassin could be, the kill or be killed instinct remained ever persistent. As Ferus landed to the ground, he knew such a reality existed. [member="Braith"] had the upper hand with weaponry, possibly even strength, and as his red eyes watched her lip heal over as if not had happened, a reality set in.

He would not be able to wear the witch down.

Joy turned grim as he clenched his fists. If he couldn't wear her down, he would have to break her in one shot. But without his lightsaber or even a vibroblade, he had no overwhelming attacks. No attack that could crush her down to the point her body wouldn't be able to keep up. Or would it? Was there a limit to how far her body could go? No time for thinking that one out as she came back in. Slowly he dropped down into a neutral stance, his limbs loose. Teras Kasi was a good enough skill as any to try and keep himself alive.

But then she did the unthinkable. She threw away her spear, her one advantage in this given moment. He wasn't going to be able to dance around such a massive weapon, not without his energy blade for defense. And yet she chose to toss it. Was she pitying him again? Did she truly look this far down on him? A new rage settled in as thought began to fade. Black skin began to blister, grow, shift. Teeth extended, eyes faded into a pure red glow. What at first looked like spines grew off of him, but as the flickered about in the air, it was clear they were not solid. A black flame, dark as any black hole, seemed to flicker about the Sith's form, reacting to his anger. No longer was there a man before her, but an alchemic monstrosity.

A roar escaped it's lips, pure white fangs being the only none shadowy aspect of what was once Ferus's body. The hit from her was solid, slamming into the man mid change, but even as blood was coughed up, the change was almost instant. A massive hand swiped out for her form, deadly claws as sharp as the teeth of an Ackley. He was faster, stronger, angrier. Yet as he swiped out, he showed no hint of defense.

A beast built after Juyo itself.

[member="Sage Bane"]
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom