Sculpting the force

[GhostOfProtocol]

He blinked slowly. Atrisia was an amazing planet, a planet he'd made his home. His actual home was the palace of Lord Mythos, his room that he'd decorated to his own standards. He didn't remember anything from his old life, thus he'd roped everything in black, black and dark. The anger and hatred he had was the power to his powers, and thus deserved to be reflected in his room and his robes. He eyed the storage box on his desk, his lightsaber locked inside. No-one was getting to his weapon, no-one got to touch his weapons.

His main weapon was the force though. Something he'd finally got his head around once more since he awoke on that faithless day. The force had two sides, he knew that. He knew the light and the dark, he knew how to power both. He struggled with the lighter force though, he struggled because of the anger and hatred flowing through him, The anger and hatred towards whoever caused him to "fall" over that cliff. Whoever caused him to forget everything, that man could be dead and Colt would kill him even more.

Colt stepped out into the corridor. He'd asked his master to meet him in a small training room. The urge to learn Force Grip was great, almost as great as the urge to learn Force Crush and some other force powers. He thought about that lightly as he strolled the corridors, eyes flashing around every so often. He wasn't trusting, he wasn't completely trusting. Slowly, he walked like a Sith should walk. Inducing fear with every little step. His speech was much the same, like daggers cutting into the throat of who they were aimed at.

He stepped in the room, he was ready.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

It was a normal uneventful day in Atrisia, normally Mythos would be meeting with the nobles of the planet and discussing what would be to come when it came to the economic state of Atrisia and how to boost it's import and outport of goods. However this day, Mythos was wearing his training clothing and approached a special room in the palace that his apprentice, the man he called Colt, awaited him.

As Mythos walked his mind came to focus, his thoughts opened and cleared in his mind as if clearing a desk for work. When the doors parted in the room they did so not because Mythos pushed them, but because the force blasted them apart with a mighty repulse of the dark side of the force. Before his eyes he saw the image of his apprentice and the fear and hatred that boiled inside him was tangible, almost visible in the force. Mythos' eyes bared down upon him as his hands crossed his arms and the force whirled around him like a maelstrom.

"Let us see what you can do...." Mythos said, his voice booming unnaturally due to the force below he could barely control when so enveloped by the force. The lesson would be a simple one, as simple as it could possibly be. "Move me"

Mythos smiled as the force weighed down on him like an anchor, he was centered in the force, creating an invisible wall around him that would keep him steady and firm as his apprentice. His smile was once of self assurance, he knew this acolyte before him was no weakling... yet he also knew that he was not even close to Mythos' level of mastery with the force. This exercise, would teach him the power of telekinesis.

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

Spoiler

I want my font back

"Move me"

A youthamism for something but a direct and strong command, one that Colt was more than happy to follow. He watched as his master stood still, Colt feeling out in the force. He felt the direct barrier that his master had put up around himself, an anchor in the force. It would be hard to move him, but not impossible. Nothing was ever impossible, the power of the force made sure nothing was ever impossible, a feat that Colt had learned more than once in his time since waking from the sleep that caused all the memory loss.

It would be hard to come in with a direct force push, the power of the anchor would absorb it before it came close to his master. It was much the same with a force pull, the anchor would mean it had very little effect. The whole point of this training was to learn though, so why couldn't he learn a new move. He flicked his wrist up under his robe, a very weak force levitate coming into effect under his master. It wouldn't do much, but the hope was that it weakened the anchor enough. He flicked his wrist again, attempting to grip an invisible chain and force pull his master to him. It was a task that he wasn't sure would happen, but he had to give it a try. The whole point was to learn something new.

And technically he was still moving his master.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

The Stern gaze of the Sith lord never left his apprentice for a second, he watched his every move with scrutiny and judgment as he did was he was commanded to do. The force whirled and heaved under him while Mythos just clenched his jaw and stubbornly remained fixed in his position. He felt the rush of energy against him, pulling him towards his apprentice as he attempted a force pull, it was a valiant try and a good start but not enough to satisfy Lord Mythos' expectations. "Pathetic..." Mythos spat, his eyes glistening with red and yellow energy.

Yet it was not really so, it was quite formidable the way his apprentice moved the force yet Mythos would not grant him the satisfaction of being praised for his actions. Mythos tilted his head and stood back appearing not to have moved an inch, in reality he did but the eye could not detect such small shifting in figure. "Is this how you expect to fight the one responsible for what happened to you?" Mythos shouted, his voice gradually becoming louder and more agitated prodding his apprentice to anger and hatred, seeking for him to use that very emotion to his advantage.

"If you do not use your anger you will find yourself at the bottom of another ravine impaled upon some other jagged rock!" He taunted, gritting his teeth in anger and expectation, he now expected his apprentice to use this hatred,to use this anger against him in a flurry of power and destruction and finally move him from where he was... he knew he could do it... he just needed the words..

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

"Pathetic"

He wasn't much, but he was more than pathetic. No single being had the right to call Colt pathetic. He'd worked hard since his awakening, he'd fought every last one of his masters battles with him. He was not pathetic, nothing about him was pathetic. He reached out, fingers tightening. The anger pushed from his body, every last little drop of his hatred powering his hand. The force was strong, powered by the emotions from himself. Colt tightened his fingers even more, the force pulsing into his hand like a jet racing a biplane. It would all come down to this singular move.

He flexed his hand, all the force that had built up there being realised in an explosion like what you'd expect after a nuke went off. He cackled, a dark cackle, the cackle that you'd expect from an evil scientist. The force would pull, pull at his master. This pull wouldn't be a slight drag however, the dark anger and hate within him would power the pull, attempting to drag his master into the air and pull him across the room. His fingers would close, the force tightening around Mythos, attempting to pin his arms at his side and hold him vertical in the air. No attempt to hurt, just make a point.

"No-one calls me pathetic"

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

Mythos felt his arms tighten and the fury of the force increase around his from while holding his position. "Yes...." Mythos smiled at the declaration of his apprentice and the fury and anger that was building up around him yet it still was not enough, he needed that last push of power before he was able to truly blast Mythos to the extent that he desired. The force smashed against Mythos pushing him back several inches yet his boots glided through the stone floor as he gave a vicious laugh following shortly after. "Use your anger my apprentice... Use the hatred inside you to make yourself strong!"

Mythos beat back his apprentices' force energy with his own dark repulse only to release himself of the grip and balance himself upon the stone of the room. The force continued to beat back at him yet as a Sith Lord he was able resist the flow of the force to a greater degree than what his apprentice could force upon him... for now. He was sensing a breakthrough with his apprentice in the realm of telekinesis yet his apprentice still needed one slight push off the edge to reach his true potential once and for all. Mythos decided to use dun moch in this instance, a technique of enticement using words to push an enemy either off balance or incite anger and emotions during battle. "Is this all you are capable of?" Mythos yelled, his voice reaching a powerful force bellow that cracked the stone beneath him. "Show me you are worthy of my power! I do not waste my teachings on the weak!" That last sentence was heard through the force by the power of Adas behind his axe, it was a saying as old as the Sith teachings... now Colt would learn it's true meaning.

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

"I do not waste my teachings on the weak"

Lord Mythos was toying with him. Lord Mythos was trying to tip him over the edge, which he was thankful for in many ways. What he didn't enjoy was the way it was being done. He wasn't weak, nor pathetic. He just hadn't had a chance to show his skills. Force Lightning, the staple power of the Sith. One of the staple powers of the Sith, the other was the force grip and in turn force choke. Slowly, Colt blinked. He thought about that for a moment, shaking with anger as it flowed through his system unchecked. A small bomb waiting to blow, waiting to lose it.

He stepped forward, one foot coming down hard. The force flowed unchecked through his system, fuelled by the unchecked anger and hatred. Slowly, Colt thought. He focused, his eyes flashing as if someone had killed someone he cared for. He was a Sith, this is what he required from himself to power the movements in the force, to power the power that he had. He gave it one last try, calling upon the force to lift Lord Mythos, calling upon the force to toss his master across the room into a small crash mat that Colt had set up prior to this training. He had anticipated someone being flung across the room as a way of training, he figured it would be nicer to land on something softer. It would sting, it would hurt, but it wouldn't do any lasting damage.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

Mythos felt his anger erupt into into a single climatic shove that was backed by true power of raw darkside force energy. As he was flying through the air in the direction of the mat he was laughing and smiling, even when he smashed behind in the cushion he was laughing and nodding in approval. He stood slowly and locked eyes with his apprentice showering him with the grim visage of a maddened Sith Lord. When he stood he did so clapping slowly and rhythmically while stepping closer and closer to his apprentice. "Well done... you now have evolved from germ into a worm colt..." Mythos said, further prodding his apprentice into anger and the desire for achievement. The desire to prove Mythos wrong would drive him just like impotence had driven him while under Darth Ophidia.

Mythos now decided to take a page directly from her proverbial book as he gathered the force within him and stretched out his hands to the air. The old Atrisian altar with two statues behind Colt was about four to seven times as heavy as Mythos and him combined, slowly it started to be ripped apart from the ground durasteel and all while making it's way directly over the head of his apprentice several feel above. He slowly and gradually began to lower it and letting more and more of his influence leave the massive golden colored altar. "Eventually i will let this drop on your head my apprentice... you will either succeed or you will die.. you will find those options being repeated many times during your tenure with me..."

When he stopped speaking, the altar crashed down. He was not as patient or as detailed in the needs of his students as Ophidia, he was not an experienced a teacher as her either, he was now learning the very same obstacles she had with him and began to feel thankful in a strange way to her guidance...

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

"You will either succeed or you will die"

Death didn't sound like a fun option, it sounded like it was cause just a light amount of pain. It would only be light, the statue would shatter his neck if it connected with it, the weight of the alter would kill him instantly. If he was honest, he liked life. He didn't have much, no actual name, no memory of anything from before a month ago. But he'd formed his new life, he liked his new life.

That being said, he was expecting the alter to drop. He raised his one hand in a weak stretch, allowing his robe sleeves to hang loose over his wrists. He called upon the force in the few seconds he had left, flicking his wrist back down. The anger and hatred that he and Lord Mythos had built up, powering his every move. It would be easy, the anger and hatred would make him the perfect Sith. The force would fling from his body in the particles that they were, connecting with the alter. The hope was that the alter would fly forwards, land right next to his master. It was heavy to hold, he felt that while he was waiting.

Eventually his alter flew.

That would be the hope anyway, if he failed to do that he would call upon the force and jump out of the way of the falling ball of pain. He would survive, but he knew that Lord Mythos would give him hell for jumping aside. The hell was something he couldn't really bother to put up with.

If all went to plan, Colt's next words would be like daggers.

"Are you... Impressed yet?"

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

The altar came crashing down a few feet in front of Mythos and a few feet in front of Colt, when it did Mythos did not flinch. The force warned him of any impending danger from the falling durasteel and stone and right now he could not feel the force urge him to move... so he did not. When the dust was settled and the altar crumbled to dust before him Mythos put one boot in front of the other and approached his apprentice with nodding approval. "As impressed as a weapon smith that sees his blasterrifle fire... you did what my expectations of you told me... nothing else" His voice was cold and it contrasted with his image passing through the dust and debris of the broken altar upon the floor.

In truth he had exceeded Mythos' expectations and surpassed them by an insane amount. Colt would be his masterpiece, Colt would be the product of his work that Mythos would flaunt and brag about to his fellow Lords, he would be Ophidia and Colt would be Mythos.... a success and a pride. If Colt was as devoted and as reverent to Mythos as he was with his own master was yet to be discovered but unlike his master, Mythos would welcome such devotion with reward.

With a snap and hiss his black core lightsaber ignited in the debris, the roar of plasma echoing in the room as it destroyed small dust particles in it's blade as he approached. He would say no words, he would give no warnings... Mythos would avalanche himself upon his apprentice with a fury of Juyo rotations meant to break and end him on the spot. He would need to defend, he would need to rely on the power of the darkside to survive and that is exactly what Mythos expected him to do. No rules, no excuses. Fight and Survive, or hesitate and Die.

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

He felt in the force as his master launched upon him, blade rotating to harm. He stepped back to dodge the first of the attacks. As soon as his master got close, he would launch into a force powered jump, launching his body into the air in a flip. He would twist his body if Lord Mythos brought his lightsaber up to try and harm in then, and upon landing Colt would reach out, all the anger and hatred flowing through him.

His hands would become engulfed in lightning, an effect of the force lightning used. The lightning would arch out towards his master, a distraction to allow time for Colt to preform the main move. He would imagine a brain, a technique he remembered learning somehow. He began to push the force, open up his own mind as well as the mind of Lord Mythos. Upon both minds opening, Colt would allow his brain to flush into that of Lord Mythos. Mythos would become riddled with the pain of every single murder Colt had ever seen. Every single amount of pain Colt had ever seen or felt would flush into his master, attempt to cripple him. He didn't know where he'd learned the technique, but he knew it would be useful here.

Spoiler

The mind thing was learned in a battle with someone who's name I can't remember, sorry.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

Mentalism, it was a tool Mythos had used for offense yet never for defenses. Mythos' mental defenses were by any measure his only real weakness in the force. When his apprentice jumped and executed an Ataru acrobatic Mythos smiled knowing the combat to be over, once his apprentice landed Mythos would have a slice and dice to his legs and torso that would dismantle his body as quickly as butchers meat.... only it never happened. Suddenly his hands flared up in sith lightning and a rush of pain lowed into his mind as he saw clearly the deaths of over two dozen people in the flash of an eye.

The pain was indescribable and it threw Mythos back to the rubble of the broken altar clutching his skull and his knees hitting the ground hard. His apprentice was not as feeble as he perceived him and Mythos realized he had underestimated the youth. He could not focus on the force with the pain yet he could grasp his axe with one hand and chuck the crude weapon to his apprentice through the pain in an attempt to shatter his focus and release him from the bonds of mentalist techniques. The bond of minds was a two way street, Mythos could see inside of his mind as well as he could see in his and he executed the only ability he knew would give him the advantage. Suddenly Colt would see twelve Lord Mythos, surrounding him with the same posture as the real one standing up and throwing the axe.

Illusions had been his trademark once, yet now it was annihilation and death. "Let us see what you are truly made of apprentice!"
[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

He felt the axe in the force, he didn't feel the twelve Lord Mythos' however. It was time to close his mind, he was happy when he did so. He launched into a jump, the force powering his leap. The axe flew under him, and Colt breathed a sigh of relief as he flew through the air. He reached out within the force, feeling the force pull on the lightsaber from his master's belt. The other hand was also launch out, pulling a training saber to him. He felt the blade connect with his hands, his fingers clenching around the hilt. He felt his hand connect with the ignition.

He launched into the air again, lightsaber underneath him. He would twist the lightsaber towards the shoulder of his master, aiming to catch the shoulder and thus limit the attacking ability of said master. He felt his feet connect with the ground, and instantly Colt would spin, lightsaber feinting. He would pretend to bring his lightsaber up above his head and bring it down in an arch. Instead he would drop the blade, catching it while it was low and attempt to bring the blade up, slicing his master in two. Well, causing a really bad sting, training lightsaber being what it was.

[member="Lord Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

When his apprentice leapt over the axe Mythos' eyes shifted from his flying form to the shadow his body swept across the ground. He called to the force and focused on the twirling blade as it made a shift through the air and headed back around to his his back. As his apprentice lifted his hands over his head Mythos did not even flinch, his body not quivering under the strike that was presented because he could clearly see the saber dropping as a faint. Battle precognition is a beautiful thing in the eyes of Lord Mythos, his senses indicating where the swing would come from.

The axe at that moment came back full wing in the air controlled by the will of Mythos to hit hit apprentice with the full force of the alchemized blade and fully intending to split him in half. When the plunge of his lightsaber hit the form of Mythos only a black smoke puffed from the entry of the lightsaber as the illusion dissipated into the nothingness where it came.

"Always pay attention to your surroundings apprentice" Said the furious voice like a rumbling of darkness in the direction the real Mythos who stood a few meters off to his side with his hand extended controlling the flying axe as it made way straight for his back at an astonishing speed, whirling and crying out through the force... for fresh blood. His head still throbbing from the mental intrusion he fought as if he was fighting for his honor and standing as well as for his life. His apprentice would learn or die, succeed or perish.

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

Spoiler

I apologize for not posting sooner. Been working with other characters as well as IRL. And yes, I know that your character has gone his own way, but canonically we could always make this training before Mythos, and I'm gonna say it, lost it and went slightly mad hunting things

The force told him everything, told him when to duck and when to attack. The force was more than a tool, it was life and it would thirst for blood more than it needed to. The axe swung towards him as the illusion melted, and the force was already aware of the danger sweeping in. It told Colt exactly when to move, jump and duck. It told him to duck as the axe swung in, something he did without any energy. The force told him to roll to the side, use the flooring and kick up to his feet, kick up into a jump over the head of his master, of his friend.

Colt listened to the force, using his toe and heel to kick himself up to his feet. He turned, breaking into a leap over his friend, feet connecting with the ground after. He swung the blade, lightsaber twisting in his hand to add a spin to the attack. His left hand would shoot from his side, force racing through to his fingers. He would pull at his master with the force, attempt to drag the man towards him. Every last drop of hatred went into the force, the hatred of the fight that appeared to be dragging for too long, the hatred of the man who wiped his memories.

He would pull, and then he would unleash it all in a push, attempt to fling his master across the room towards the ruins of the alter. Any damage wouldn't matter to Colt, it was all signs of his power. Lasting damage would matter slightly, but he would hide it, make sure that he could prove to his master just how powerful he was.

"Adapt my master, or die"

[member="Mythos"]