Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Conflagration of New Holstice [TSE/SJO]

Ra did not rely on the Force very often and used it only as an asset. Something to enhance what she possessed naturally. When it came to fighting, it would allow her to move faster, hit harder and evade better.

Her eyes popped open as she sensed the fast...super fast approach of another Force user. Stirring up dust and ash as she moved away from the attack, he claws and teeth would miss her by mere inches. However, a flip of her head and hopefully the barbed ball at the end of her braid might catch him in the face.

Using her hair like a whip, she flipped it back behind her and faced the sentient animal that tried to attack her.

"That was unexpected. Let's try that again shall we?"

He outweighed her greatly, but she had some tricks up her sleeve. Quite literally. Two short lightsaber hilts were hidden up them. All it would take was a minor flick of her wrist and they would be in her hands. Not yet ready to reveal their presence, she lashed out with the Force.

A shove in an attempt to knock him off his feet and give her an advantage.

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]
 
Yuoric watched as the Sith sent dark orbs to chase him. He jumped around, using the freedom that the rubble gave be more more difficult in his evasions, making it trickier for the orbs to follow him as he continued to close the gap in the Sith. Realising that he wasn't getting close enough to counter his attacks with Lightsaber strikes. Yuroic turns his sabers off and clipped them to his belt. Reaching with the Force, hurling a large piece of rubble at the Sith then jumped into the air. Ready to strike.

While in the air, Yuroic smirked. "Not the only one with some tricks boy." He spoke as from his fingers came bolts of Force Lightning towards the Sith. His eyes focused as he maintained the shocks for a few moments before landing on the ground and moving towards the Sith again, hoping to get close once more. He needed to gain some ground.

[member="Kahlil Zambrano"]
 
Dubiety barely got around the chunk of earth thrown his way, ducking low. [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] might have been a bit more than the acolyte could chew. It was unlikely he'd win if it continued like this, especially with the Knights capabilities to heal himself. And lightning. The Sith practically hissed as he brought his own hand around to unleash a blast to try and at least lessen the blast.

"Light and dark used so callously will only lessen your life, Jedi." There was something to say about compromising the Light with the Dark. It was fascinating to see it close up, though it might cost him his life. His arm now freshly singed from the exchange of lightning. Again he returned to the defensive, holding up his staff with a single black orb floating above it. He was open.
 
He answered her, but his words were swimming in her head. Back and forth they went, around and around and she couldn’t hold on long enough to understand them. Under normal circumstances, she would consider herself rude for not listening fully to a reply that was given to her. Destruction, family, peace, changes. Around and around they went.

She’d managed to clamber to her feet, and the saber hilt she’d been trying after lazily rolled to her feet. It wasn’t as if the weapon conferred much safety to her, but she was desperate to hold onto anything that made her feel remotely safe. Then he’d turned the question to her.

Swallowing against a dry throat, Nida whispered. “No.” She shook her head, the movement a bit jerky with nerves. “No, I don’t think I can save everyone. That’s impossible. Even if I did believe that, what you’ve done here today would prove to me that I couldn’t.”

The first thing she’d known was fear. Fear, pain, and a confusing sense of pride and disgust for herself. Once she found her way into an adoptive family, it took a long time for Nida to understand what familial love was.

“I do,” She tensed as he raised his hand, sparks crawling across his fingers. “I don’t need to sense it. It’s as clear as it can be.” The screaming, the blood, the pain, she was used to. So why did it all unnerve her so? Nida closed her eyes, still as stone while the lightning streaked past her and caused the woman to seize, back arching and limbs jerking.

Kneeling down, Nida retrieved the saber hilt. It had always felt so heavy in her hands, as if it hadn’t been made for the likes of her. “She was already dead.” Her voice came as a whisper, again. “A gash in the side of her neck, she wasn’t long for this world. The two you killed, they were holding pressure against the wound. She bled out the moment you struck them down.” Her voice raised a level or two above a whisper, something angry brewing in her tone. As a child, she’d learned the finality of death by praying that it wouldn’t happen to her.

“You are ill.” She raised her hands, palms outstretched and facing him. The force would shift around [member="Lark"], a bubble forming around him in an attempt to contain the monster. “You have a sickness of the mind.”
 
[SIZE=13.5pt]Knight, Sith Warrior[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Location - Burned Forest, Bombarded Surface, New Holstice[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Allies - The Sith Empire[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Enemies - [member="Riamah"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Status - Alert[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Armor - Terentaek & Armorweave Armor[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Equipment - Crimson Lightsaber (1x) | Ballistic Knife (1x)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

The Gurlanin's open maw was heading towards the redhead lightsiders location. Any minute now, canine teeth would sink into vulnerable flesh in a mist of red and the oozing of warm, red liquid onto the ground below. The wolf's maw of teeth, however, did not ever reach the flesh of the female. She had moved at just the last minute, confirming the male's suspicions that she was, in fact, a force-sensitive. A lightsider, a jedi, someone he could use as practice to help himself become stronger to exact revenge on those who had wronged him on Qiilura, a place that he had once called home, now a forbidden land to him one which he could never hope to return to now save for years later for which time...he knew not of. What the Gurlanin did know of, however, was that he would kill this lightsider. He had no doubts in his own abilities, he knew he was superior to this woman, this lightsider. He had been a hunter all his life, tracking both small and large prey alike and subsequently killing it as well. Thi such encounter would very much be the same as all other hunts he had participated in. The tracking part of the hunt was over now. It was time to injure and maim his prey until it could walk no longer, then he would be able to claim a justified and righteous victory against an organization which was blind, much like the Sith, to the greater scope of the Force and of the Galaxy.

The barbed ball at the end of the woman's braided hair caught the large black and white wolf by surprise, the barbs colliding with the wolf's face and open maw leaving scratches in its wake of damage. Barbs caught onto one of the larger canine teeth of Kaine, pulling against the strong predatory tool before finally slipping out of it's grasp with a resounding crack and fracture of the tooth, not fully breaking it but fracturing it. As soon as the tooth fractures the Gurlanin yelped and then subsequently growled at the redhead woman once it had landed on the ground. The normally orange eyes of Kaine now glowed a fierce red with orange specks of color flicked throughout the nasty and vicious red haze of anger which had overtaken the Sith's mind and emotions. The taste of copper fell into the wolf's mouth, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth at the taste of his own bodily blood.

He sensed the force push coming before it was sent asunder from the woman's hands, easily moving out of the way from the vacuum of force energy sent towards the location he was previously at. He jumped to the side quickly as the force pushed was thrown in his direction before picking up speed and biting at the woman's leg with an open maw of teeth, paws outstretched to try and keep the limb in place or at least damage the woman.
 
Yuroic laughed, he was getting lectured about the use of the Dark Side by a Sith. It was astounding the lengths a Sith would go to make sure only they were right and could use the Force correctly. Had to be the Sith way, no other way could work. "I tend to disagree with that. Plenty of Grey Jedi existed throughout history. Using both Light and Dark Force powers. Some of them were the greatest Force Users of their time." Yuroic argued as he noticed the opening and using the Force, he threw his Lightsaber at the opening.

There was a sense of cautiousness in this act, he was unwilling to go in too close and unleash an attack on himself, however his Lightsaber was thrown with the Force to be accurate and aimed to strike at the gut of the Sith should it land. On top of that, Yuroic used the Force to cause the ceiling above the Sith to crack and fall onto him. The Sith was not the only one strong with Force powers and Yuroic was aiming to end the fight so he could check on his Padawan, he was not bothered whether the Sith died or barely survived, as long he could not cause any more harm during this battle was what mattered to him.

[member="Kahlil Zambrano"]
 
Kahlil narrowed his eyes faintly. The Jedi, or Grey Jedi, what ever he was, was going to win this fight. The Young Sith knew this only because he was running out of steam. All of his charges had been spent on his spells, and he had nothing in reserves after the earlier exchange. But he wasn't going to simply lay down and die for [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] . He could hear the cracking of the ceiling above him.

At least the Jedi was willing to help his escape.

He barely even noted the lightsaber being thrown at him, instead leaping back and launching the last sphere upwards. An explosion of violent heat rocked the already ruined ceiling, causing it to all come crumbling down between the pair as a shield from the saber. "Another time then." He mumbled, turning to leave.

Exit Thread.
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
Lark gazed at the dead woman's body, charred after his blast of lightning. He hadn't even realized she had passed on. Had he been so consumed by rage that he thoughtlessly ruined everything around him? Often times he lost himself in thought, but only on rare occasions did he become so vicious. "I see," he whispered softly, as the young Jedi picked up her weapon. "You witness the atrocities around you, acknowledge their truth. And yet still, you try and save who you can." Perhaps, despite the horrors it brought, this child still loved life. She clung to it and desired for others to live too, avoiding the inevitability of death in order to remain with the ones that they love. Lark had not felt that for a long time. His life, the lives of others, they all meant nothing to him.

"Something inside me is broken," Lark conceded, looking at the Jedi innocently. "I know not when it happened, it is a break I don't wish to be fixed. But I'll spare you any needless justifications." He felt the Force shift around him, [member="Nida Perl"] was trying to trap him where he could no longer hurt anyone else. He pushed back against the bubble with his own burst of the Force, steeling himself as he heard a slight amount of rage in her words. It's alright, let it all out, he thought. "I truly respect that even after you observe what I've done, you still try and contain me," he said truthfully. "But I'm afraid the only way to stop me is to kill me."
 
This was not how Nida had intended for things to be. She’d never met a Sith before, but had been told plenty of tales about how they were all heartless beasts, murders and slavers without a moral fiber in their body. They did not experience any feelings beyond a thirst for power and an urge to kill all those who stood in their way. No regrets, no ethical complications, just ruthless conquerors with a one track mind. They were the antithesis of everything that was kind and just in this galaxy.

This was very, very confusing.

Something was wrong, he was ill, and he knew it. He acknowledged his own sickness, speaking with a vague yet distinctive note of sadness. Nida could see it, feel it, and it scared her more than a thousand murderous Sith Lords.

She felt the Force push back against her own attempts, dissipating the bubble as it formed. The Zeltron skittered back a few feet from the pressure. “I can’t—I don’t like seeing people in pain.” She whispered, words jittery and unsure.

He was human, a person. He was not what she had expected, not at all. Nida thought that she knew her enemy, that it was as easy as fitting every crimson saber wielder into a box. He respected her. He spoke to her calmly, genuinely. Was this a trap? I could very well be, but Nida wanted desperately to believe that he was being honest with her.

Her strength was beginning to fail her, adrenaline beginning to taper off. “You do not have to do this.” Her voice was still soft, but she did her best to raise it above the din. Throat dry, vocal cords tight, her words came out hoarse and rougher than she’d have liked. “You know that you are ill, but you do not want help?”

Nida took a brave step forward, feeling the regret in every tremor that snaked its way up and down her body. “I know what it is like to suffer something terrible. To have it change you in ways that cannot be changed back. But you can still find a measure of peace, even now. Please,”

She swallowed thickly, one hand extended, fingers trembling. Please, let me help you!”

[member="Lark"]
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
“I know what it is like to suffer something terrible. To have it change you in ways that cannot be changed back. But you can still find a measure of peace, even now. Please...”

Peace. I felt that before. It was a long time ago, back before everything happened. Before Lark's parents died and his siblings were taken away from him. Before he was taken into that orphanage and burned his home to the ground. Before he joined the Sith Empire seeking a new life. Lark and his siblings had gone to a local park, he had been pushing his sister's stroller while his brother sauntered along, reticent as always. The fountain was still working then, and the trickle of water harmonized with the chirping of birds. Lark couldn't remember what they were talking about, but he knew they were smiling. At one point they laughed. Lark had striven to feel that same surreal sensation, but like his brief search for his siblings, his mission ended in failure.

[member="Nida Perl"] reached out with a quivering hand, and Lark entered a dream-like state.

He was back at the park, although there was no birdsong or falling water. It was deathly silent, and in front of Lark were two figures. One sat on the edge of the fountain, gracefully twirling her finger in the still water. The other stood by her with dark, penetrating eyes. At first, he didn't recognize them. But when the girl turned her head, a lifetime of false memories surged into his head. Visions of what could have been. Lark and his sister bringing some stray animal home to take care of. His brother patiently reading them stories so they could fall asleep. All three attending school together. And eventually leaving Myrkr, exploring the beyond together.

All of that had been taken from them.

Is this what they look like now? Only recently had he discovered that his sister was even alive, and that his brother hadn't abandoned him as he previously thought. Is this all just some trick of the mind by the Jedi? Or am I just seeing what I want to see? Lark's siblings looked more alike than he did, with dark black hair instead of his scarlet.

"Brother," his sister said wistfully. "You made me a promise."

I’ll show you all the love this family has to give you. I can’t wait until you’re old enough to play games with Brother and I. We’ll play all day, and we’ll be the happiest kids in the world. It'll be great.

Lark was at a loss for words. In front of him was all he ever wanted as a child. His sister held up a hand, with tears in her eyes. His brother silently pleaded with him, begging for him to take her hand and make things the way they were before.

And when he blinked, the battlefield returned to him like a torrent of water to the face. Nida held up an outstretched hand in the place of his sister, and men and women died around them. I'm sorry sister, but I am no longer a child. I don't know what is was that twisted my life so horribly wrong. Was it our parent's death, or one of your kidnappings? My belief that my brother abandoned me? Or was I born this way? Lark wanted so badly to reach out and take that hand. To return to a sense or normalcy. Could everything he had done be forgiven? The Jedi might sincerely try to help him, but in the end they'd let him down. So many others had. Why would they be any different?

"I'm sorry, but... no. No, I'm afraid it's far too late for that. I've done too much, come too far. I've seen the unfathomable darkness of humanity, and one day I'll unleash that darkness onto the galaxy. Everyone will feel what I felt." Lark sighed, and sheathed his sword, walking towards the tiny Zeltron. "I want you to make me a promise. One day, we are going to meet again. And chances our whence you next see me I'll be someone completely different. I change personalities so frequently. Maybe I won't be so bad. Perhaps I'll be a monster. Either way..."

He placed his hands, covered in light pink scars from burns sustained as a child, around her open palm. "When we meet again, I fear I'm going to try and break you. Torment you until you beliefs are shattered and your humanity is torn apart. Make you become a monster like I am. I've brought ruin to so many people's lives. Promise me that no matter what I might try and do to you, that you continue standing tall. Keep believing in the good in people."

Lark hoped she would at least heed his words. There was a monster inside him, one that couldn't be stopped. Eventually Lark would die a nameless monster, and he'd bring the worlds down with him. But right now, that monster was at bay. Right now, Lark was playing the personality of a brother. A role he hadn't played for quite some time.
 

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