Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Blackened Valkyrie — The 14th Wife
Teresa came too as she heard the sounds of rumbling. It was dark, humid and smelt of sweat Although that could not be helped from how hot it was in the small confined space. Anger swelled in her achy bones. Anger for the woman she called master. No longer! this was the last straw this time and that Hailey person, the one who gave her a knock out concoction would pay too. She tried to move only feeling the metal tighten and rug against her skin. It was painful but most of all the large wings bound to her back was sore too. "Hunnnnffffffff." She'd scream out hoping someone would hear. Although the gag was in there good. Nothing but muffle sounds would make it out of her lips.

There was the sounds of talking outside that was hard to hear that lasted for a moment and once more it was back to being moved and the rumbling. There was no idea where she was, just that she was in a box that had something hitting her in the face and only her wings to cover her. A lot of time passed, or it had felt like it. The anger slowly dulled to boredom and annoyance from time to time agitation from the pain. Teresa realised she'd have no choice to stick it out. Once more the box stopped and it was slammed down this time. She could hear someone knocking on a door.
 
Packages dispatched to the Emperor's Palace on Bastion were rigorously inspected to ensure that nothing potentially threatening could be delivered to the Emperor. What point were all the guards and fortified defensive works if someone could mail a homemade bomb right to his door and kill him in that fashion.

So when a particularly large crate was left within a stone's throw of the Emperor's palace with instructions to be delivered to his Majesty in person, it raised several red flags.

Demolition experts were first sent it to appraise the container of any explosive materials, their high-powered scans piercing the thick metal of the crate to reveal the visage of a bound and gagged woman hidden within. It was clear that she did not personally wield anything dangerous, as her limbs were suitably restrained, though a small pouch containing clothes and a lightsaber was pinned to the outside; having fortunately not been looted by any passerby prior to its discovery by Palace officials.

After it was determined that the container was of no threat, it was then hauled onto a grav-sled and prepared to transport it to the Emperor's throne room. Once the Emperor had been informed of his new delivery, he emerged into the throne room to witness its opening. The box was brought in, placed gently on the floor, and upon the Emperor's command, they yanked the bolts holding it together through magnetized poles until the sides gave way while the top paneling was held up and then shortly after thrown to the ground.

[member="Darth Pellax"]
 
Blackened Valkyrie — The 14th Wife
[member="Darth Carnifex"]


All she wanted at this point was to be set free. By now someone must've known she was in here. What did fate have in store for Teresa? Only cruel one she could assume. Did death await or something much worse. Maybe this was some kind of sick and twisted joke. The sides would fall and her immediate reaction was to wiggle from out the chains. Eyes glared at her pale skin and the black feathered wings protruding from her back. "Hunnnfffff." She'd scream as the sound muffled. The people would now see a note attached to the chains.


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Dear Darth Carnifax

I am sending you this gift to do with as you please
She has become to much hassle for me to keep around,
May Teresa serve you better than she did me,
I have done the liberty of including the controls to
the slave collar that you will find amongst the
personal effects of this woman.

If you wish not to keep her then you are welcome to
dispose of Teresa Shan in any way you see fit.



Sincerely,
Darth Banshee


The letter would come loose and glided across the floor only to land under the Emperor's foot.
 
A small gust of wind brought the scrap of flimsiplast up to the Emperor's hands, which gently grasped it and held it aloft so that he could read its contents.

It was amusing, to say the least.

With a snap of his fingers, the paper combusted and burned away until only the faintest glimmer of embers remained before they too disappeared.

"Bring her over." A pair of Crownguard approached the shackled woman, hoisting her up by sliding firm hands into the crook of her armpits while their other hands held firm to their lightsaber pikes. They carried her, just high enough so her legs could still dangle and drag across the smooth marble floor, and deposited her on her knees before the Sith Emperor.

"Remove her gag, but keep her restrained." Wordlessly they complied, un-fastening the gag and pulling it out of her mouth to allow her to talk.

"Teresa Shan, I presume? I wonder what you've done to displease Banshee."

[member="Darth Pellax"]
 
Blackened Valkyrie — The 14th Wife
[member="Darth Carnifex"]

She felt the hands tuck under her arm just as that deep almost demonic voice demanded. She could not deny it frightened her. What sort of being could posses a voice like the one she heard. A flutter of rapid heartbeats made her chest vibrate with such strength as her head lifted to look at the man. Her feet dragged against the smooth surface, the chains jangled from the movement. Her eyes kept flicking away feeling uncomfortable to look at the being before her. Something swelled around him making her feel small, like a speck of dust to a grand statue. The gag would slip away from her mouth releasing the pressure on the corners of her mouth.

The voice spoke out again but to Teresa this time and the reverb around the room with dissonance. "My former name yes. Darth Pellax in the flesh." A name that was not even remotely known by many. She said keeping her eyes turned away except to look with quick glimpses. Normally a fight or flight instinct would take over her, although her bound state forced that neither of those would be an action. "No idea, she stopped training me in her own ventures to power. Probably the constant requesting to train me, her failures to train me became my own by not taking action. maybe I was a reminder of those failures and simply she wanted rid of me. The constant jobs to test my will left me something worse than scars." The chains around her wings had become white with frost, something she could feel against the skin under the feathers.

Teresa would flex her wings braking the chains around them and the most of rest began to follow as she shook to loosen them of, only her hands remained bound. A feat she could not have done inside a box that was so confined. She stood up, looking at the man directly this time. "Although they have their perks." The Lock black wings with few red flight feathers remained stretched out and tall for a moment before dropping back down. "And who exactly are you?" She said ignorant of who exactly she stood before. Possibly one of the few people that a wiser choice of words would go more smoothly.
 
"Interesting."

He hadn't heard of this Sith before, but that was unsurprising. There were so many Sith who congregated both within his Brotherhood and without, it was almost impossible to know each and every one of them on a name-by-name basis. What did surprise him, however, was her ignorance as to who he was. By her own admission and the letter's contents, she had served under [member="Darth Banshee"], the reigning monarch of Serenno by the good graces of his majesty.

How was it that she was unknowledgeable to the identity of the Sith Emperor? Perhaps willful ignorance on Banshee's part or an honest lapse in remembrance. Either way, he found the whole situation highly amusing, though he did not let his expression convey that.

"My name is Darth Carnifex, Dark Lord of the Sith and Emperor of the Sith Empire. You are on the planet Bastion, throneworld of the Sith Empire. Around you is my Palace. Your former master relinquished you to me as a gift, to do with as I please." He drew closer, his stature intimidating as his words grew dark and gravely. "So tell me, Pellax, what should I do with you?"

[member="Darth Pellax"]
 
Blackened Valkyrie — The 14th Wife
[member="Darth Carnifex"]

Teresa simply glared at him as he began ranting his titles. He was powerful and that was the only thing she cared about right at this moment, and that alone scared her. "I'm hardly impressed at your achievements, they are not my own so I could hardly care what titles you call yourself." She said putting on a brave face and even braver words. "The only aspect of you that does fascinate me is you are much stronger than I, and well I don't exactly want to die at the snap of your fingers." The man would step closer almost standing over her and peering down at her small frame. The thudding against her ribs grew faster and stronger as more fear sunk in. A general though was the likely hood her getting out alive was slim. No doubt he could feel this fear. It didn't alter the brave face she put on, even if her eyes could keep locked onto the man.

"She had no right to gift my life to anyone. My life is my own not hers to pass around who ever." Her voice made this clear it was a touchy subject to her. "I'm no one's slave. So I'll tell you what you can do. Remove this collar from around my neck and send me on my merry way to kill my mast..." There was a twitch in her eyes just as she stopped knowing her strength in the force, lacked. She could kill no doubt but only targets that don't know she was there. Normally people who could not use the force. Another like her however, she'd not make it. "Just let me go." Teresa's head dropped in shame as her voice became softer and dropping the facade. "Not like i'm of use to anyone anyway. Especially to a man who has everything like a spoilt king. Unlike someone like myself, someone who has nothing and will probably have to seek someone who will train me from scratch once fething more."
 
The Emperor's face was hard, unyielding, revealing nothing. But the glimmer in those baleful eyes, that twinkle of shadowy purpose and fierce all-encompassing hatred, burned brighter than anything that could be made by man's own hand. He reached out, his movements so methodical and telegraphed that it was almost as if the man was swimming through the water with every effort exerted as if the world around him had been slowed down to a near crawl.

"You are mistaken."

An invisible power, beyond overwhelming, held the woman's muscles in place as the thick calloused fingers of the Sith Emperor easily wrapped around her neck, and with the same frightening ease lifted her up into the air until her feet dangled a few inches above the polished marble. Though he did not apply too much pressure around her trachea, she would undoubtedly find it very difficult to breathe in his unshakable embrace.

"Your life has been forfeited, it is no longer your own."

With almost callous disregard, the Emperor threw her back down to the floor with enough force to cause her body to bounce at least once upon impact before settling. The pair of Crownguard beside her again took hold of her arms, restraining her harshly as the Emperor momentarily turned around as if to contemplate. His mind was an impenetrable fortress, unassailable by any creature living or dead, and so his motives were wholly unknowable to anyone.

But as he turned back to face her, the dark look in his eyes was perhaps a small portent into what he intended. "Your life is now mine, Teresa Shan. You were once a failure to another master, but I do not possess the same shortcomings as Banshee. I will mold you into something far greater than you ever dreamed of but in order to do that... You must be broken first. Take her to the holding cells, let the Nail have his way with her. The pretenses of her old life must be eradicated until only malleable clay remains."

[member="Darth Pellax"]
 
Blackened Valkyrie — The 14th Wife
[member="Darth Carnifex"]

The hand wrapped around her small neck feeling her wind pipe crush. The slowed and lack of oxygen caused that rushing heart to slow and thudding harder each beat begging for air to her lungs. Small forced gasps escaped to through the lips with fear in her eyes black and orange eyes. Eyes much like the man before her. Yet this man was nothing like her clearly. Something steered up an intense hate. The same hate she had from the owner she had once killed, the hate she had for the man who ruined her body. It was like fear and hate was fighting in her body as the mind focused on one simple task, draw breath. Both wings fell limp as she began to see dots and lines in her eyes. The feeling of dizziness as well as darkening vision overwhelmed until being cast to the floor.

There was a moment of a couple of coughs and panting recovering from being choked. The grasp around her arms once more took hold feeling their fingers dig into the pale flesh. Teresa's face quickly turned to a scowled as the small winged human looked directly at the man because of his brazen comment and choking her. "No YOU are mistaken. My life is mine and no others." She said in repudiate. She will never 'belong to anyone' ever again, not this man not anyone. Freedom was a hard fought for battle, one there was no desire to fight again. He spoke once more it caused that frenzied flame in her eyes ignite, loathing Carnifex. She felt her self being dragged away out the room, just before being taken through the doors her stare was on the sith emperor. "You will not brake what has already been broken. There is nothing you can do to me that I've not already experienced. Enjoy your failure for I will die before you succeed."
 
The Emperor watched as the winged woman was taken, practically dragged, from the throne room. Her outbursts went unanswered, his dark piercing stare the only response she would garner before she was taken beyond the threshold and the large reinforced doors slammed shut.

Down beneath the Palace was she taken, deep below the earth. The portion of the Palace that remained above ground was around three kilometers in height, but beneath it stretched down all the way to bedrock and even further beyond, fanning out in every direction. These subterranean chambers served as the Emperor's repositories for Sith knowledge, horrific scientific abominations, prisoners, and training halls for the myriad of acolytes who seek to learn at his feet.

Teresa would be lead to one of the darker sections, the domain of the Nail.

The Nail was once a man, born and raised like any other. Yet as he matured, his mind was warped and addled with an obsession, an obsession so violent and perverse it drove him to the darkest depths of madness in his pursuit to fulfill his desires. When the Sith Emperor found him, he was little more than a writhing torso among the refuse of Coruscant, his limbs having been amputated in a debased ritual of self-mutilation and depravity.

Yet, behind the veneer of madness, the Emperor saw in him potential and intelligence that could be made to serve him. Carnifex had cleaned his wounds, replaced the missing portions of his body with cybernetics, and repaired his shattered psyche. He was given a place among the Emperor's followers and was placed in charge of the Emperor's dungeons, serving as Chief Interrogator. To conceal his hideously scarred face, the Nail wore a Mandalorian Crusader's helmet plundered from the Sacking of Concord Dawn; a gift from his Emperor.

Now Teresa would find herself at his mercy, hauled into his workshop by the Emperor's guards and deposited onto the floor before both of them left. With a heavy clank, the door locked behind them as they left, leaving her alone in the gloomy chamber. Movement out of the corner of her eye would draw her gaze towards the far end of the room, where the Nail was perched upon a stool as his mechanical arms dislocated into multi-joint apparatuses that went to work peeling away the flesh of a bound and semi-conscious individual strapped to the hydraulic gurney before him.

With a slow methodical twist of his head, the dark visor of the Nail turned to regard his master's newest acquisition, "So, you are the one he has sent to me. Mhmmhmm, what pretty little wings you have~" His voice was highly synthetic, bordering on almost entirely artificial, but there was a distinct unlining of genuine speech that was capable of sending shivers down your spine. Now the helmet turned back to his bound victim, "I will finish up with you in a moment, darling."

Rising from his stool, the Nail began to make an advance towards Teresa, albeit at an awkward slow shuffle with the gyroscopic mechanism of his cybernetic legs whirring with every step.

[member="Darth Pellax"]
 
Blackened Valkyrie — The 14th Wife
[member="Darth Carnifex"]

The doors slammed shut with an echo through through the halls. Her feet began to feel sore after a while dragging against the floor, it was likely friction burn although that pain was nothing compared to what she has already endured. It was a long way she was been taken in fact she had lost count to how many doors they passed and how far they'd dragged her. At this point the woman would rather walk to her death than the way these husks of men was handling her. Along the way she began to shift the lamanium metal that comprised as her finger nails. Every few moments a light scrape then a chang that rung out. All in futile attempts to make a spark that she wouldn't even be able to see. If only she could control any near by flame yet the limitations was once more a downfall. Still the sound kept going to brake silence and keep her mind focused.

After some time, and few elevators and hall ways she was dragged into dark and dismal chambers. Dried blood stains decorated almost every surface. Channng. The sound went of again this time without echo. A voice spoke out almost sounding like a droid. Yet twisted and a little more organic tone to it. Teresa's eyes glared at the man making his creepy compliment. "Least my modifications are made with flesh you abomination." She said with malice and a smirk. It was not her first time seeing rooms so drenched in blood. It only fuelled that anger bringing her back to the memories of lingering upon deaths door for days at a time. All the while her body was defiled and changed. The weeks after her release was no much better as these wings the man seemed so fond of already grew from her back. The agonising pain as they grew out through fresh wounds. Even been unable to move her hands because of the metal inside them caused hindrance. She survived on willpower, unable to hunt made her body weak. If not for finding water after the second day she'd probably have died on Dathomir. A disgusting world.
 
"So they are, so they are," chortled the half-mechanical man, edging ever closer to the woman. As he drew near, one could comprehend more of what he wore around his twisted and broken body. A surgical gown as fastened tightly around his chest and stomach, dropping down to cover his legs from his thighs down to the middle of his shins. Beneath that was a blood-stained Imperial uniform devoid of any significant ornamentation save for a single rank cylinder that contained the Nail's access codes. Wrapped around his waist was a simple utility belt containing multiple surgical instruments, vials, syringes, and other nefarious tools and devices that one such as he might require.

His left arm whirred and clicked as it reconfigured its multiple appendages back into place, reformed fingers reaching out in an attempt to brush against her alabaster skin. "Such a pretty bird~ I was once afforded the magnanimous task of sculpting a little bird for my master once before, but with you I have my work cut out for me." Now his right arm began to move, separating into four smaller appendages that crackled with electricity. The charge carried in each appendage was strong enough to send a grown adult male Human into shock, paralyzing the muscles by directly attacking the nervous system.

"Now, must we make a game of this? Or will you learn quickly?"

[member="Darth Pellax"]
 

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