flesh is temporary
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Private The Pallid Wraith
- Thread starter Shade of Decay
- Start date
AMCO
I'm Sorry Dave
By all accounts, a brief, cryptic message from an unidentified source should not have reached Adrian's eyes - and yet it had. Despite being unable to discern its true meaning, the inhuman intellect charged with managing the Dark Councillors personal affairs had seen something of interest in it.
Not all that long later, relatively speaking, the sleek form of his personal vessel emerged from hyperspace at the attached coordinates...
... but only after a cloaked survey probe had confirmed the Elbion's presence and the lack of any others. One could never be too cautious.
Assuming that the docking procedure with the seemingly abandoned vessel was unproblematic, an airlock would open with a hiss of air and an immaculately-dressed figure would step forth, its form an eclectic mixture of a human body and a strangely smug-looking betentacled head.
"Here I am, bearing the face of a dead man, I wonder where I might find my double."
Not all that long later, relatively speaking, the sleek form of his personal vessel emerged from hyperspace at the attached coordinates...
... but only after a cloaked survey probe had confirmed the Elbion's presence and the lack of any others. One could never be too cautious.
Assuming that the docking procedure with the seemingly abandoned vessel was unproblematic, an airlock would open with a hiss of air and an immaculately-dressed figure would step forth, its form an eclectic mixture of a human body and a strangely smug-looking betentacled head.
"Here I am, bearing the face of a dead man, I wonder where I might find my double."
//
Shade of Decay
//
Shade of Decay
//flesh is temporary
The small, private hangar that
AMCO
had been directed to was empty save for himself and his vessel, even missing the shuttle that would normally be present. As soon as he stepped out into it, though, he would realize the ship was not so empty as it first seemed; all through the vessel, he could sense the presences of numerous Sith, primary acolytes and lesser knights. Hard at work, studying, training, growing in power. Even with its original overseer and owner seemingly deceased, and its current captain gone on other business, the Ebion was still fulfilling the purpose of a mobile academy and archive of Sith teachings.
But, hovering over it all like a miasma of loathing and decay, resided another presence, one in which more than one acolyte had found themselves lost. Most aboard the vessel thought it some form of minor Dark Side nexus, owing to the vessel's original master's arcane proclivities; some lords who had come by to observe thought it more simply the remaining stench of a decaying traitor, one that would pass from the Force in time. A useful test, for the acolytes aboard; if they couldn't keep it from affecting their minds, they were too weak to be Sith, and if it were a nexus, it would already have been harvested and drained, so it was inconsequential.
As that presence brushed against his mind, Adrian would quickly know better. Follow, came the whisper shortly after, even as he heard a small hatch open, revealing a lit—but completely empty—maintenance corridor.
AMCO
had been directed to was empty save for himself and his vessel, even missing the shuttle that would normally be present. As soon as he stepped out into it, though, he would realize the ship was not so empty as it first seemed; all through the vessel, he could sense the presences of numerous Sith, primary acolytes and lesser knights. Hard at work, studying, training, growing in power. Even with its original overseer and owner seemingly deceased, and its current captain gone on other business, the Ebion was still fulfilling the purpose of a mobile academy and archive of Sith teachings.But, hovering over it all like a miasma of loathing and decay, resided another presence, one in which more than one acolyte had found themselves lost. Most aboard the vessel thought it some form of minor Dark Side nexus, owing to the vessel's original master's arcane proclivities; some lords who had come by to observe thought it more simply the remaining stench of a decaying traitor, one that would pass from the Force in time. A useful test, for the acolytes aboard; if they couldn't keep it from affecting their minds, they were too weak to be Sith, and if it were a nexus, it would already have been harvested and drained, so it was inconsequential.
As that presence brushed against his mind, Adrian would quickly know better. Follow, came the whisper shortly after, even as he heard a small hatch open, revealing a lit—but completely empty—maintenance corridor.
AMCO
I'm Sorry Dave
The hustle and bustle of academia - or rather the less cultured, more stab-happy Sith analogue - could be felt from elsewhere aboard the vessel, but for now, in this little hangar of his, he was quite alone, an unseen and unheard visitor. Or so it seemed, but appearances could be deceptive.
Feeling the gentle touch of the corrupted presence at the vessel's heart, Adrian delved into a recently opened passage with minimal hesitation.
To his aristocratic mind, the rough aesthetic and exposes machinery of a hallway never meant for anything but maintenance crews was quite distasteful, but he was not so impractically posh as to be unable to handle some discomfort, especially motivated by curiosity as he was; speaking of curiosity, his very own telepathic tendrils would reach out, slowly slithering through the ship while skirting the attention of his lessers.
It was quite a fascinating phenomenon, this largely unofficial academy of sorts drifting through the void. As was its master, if he was not mistaken.
Feeling the gentle touch of the corrupted presence at the vessel's heart, Adrian delved into a recently opened passage with minimal hesitation.
To his aristocratic mind, the rough aesthetic and exposes machinery of a hallway never meant for anything but maintenance crews was quite distasteful, but he was not so impractically posh as to be unable to handle some discomfort, especially motivated by curiosity as he was; speaking of curiosity, his very own telepathic tendrils would reach out, slowly slithering through the ship while skirting the attention of his lessers.
It was quite a fascinating phenomenon, this largely unofficial academy of sorts drifting through the void. As was its master, if he was not mistaken.
flesh is temporary
The trip through the maintenance corridor was not an eventful one; other than a few droids, there were no beings roving around in them, nobody was exploring areas of the ship that had been expressly forbidden to them. Indeed, the most interesting thing to occur would be when another hatch within the corridor shut, barring the shapeshifting Sith's way, before a hidden door slid open, revealing a different, hidden corridor; bare and austere, but without the exposed bits of a maintenance corridor.
From there, the passage to the hidden sanctum of the vessel was quick, as all such hidden pathways ultimately led to it. Enabling Tsisaar and his servants easy access to any part of the ship they needed to reach, and providing an inescapable trap for the unwary, unwise acolytes and knights who thought to explore beyond their bounds.
Unlike the last time a visitor had been called forth, Tsisaar's private suite-laboratory was clean and empty, save for some work tables, and the massive contraption that dominated one wall of the space, the true heart of the vessel. Numerous machines, pumps, monitors; tubes, carrying various fluids, some mundane, and others highly alchemical, to the central apparatus. Innumerable wires, some of which, at closer glance, revealed themselves to be transformed, crystalline threads, optic fibers made of carefully teased and altered kyber crystal, that twisted their way until each connected to its own faintly glowing rune, expertly carved by a master of Sith sorcery.
Another machine, pumping bright red, clean, healthy blood in one direction; and its twin, siphoning away a blackened, thick, syrupy liquid.
In the center, a bacta tank, though one on overdrive, constantly cycling and filtering the miracle healing liquid through its central reservoir, which all the wires and tubes could be seen feeding into. Yet, despite the effort, the liquid inside was not the transparent, blue-tinted liquid that the galaxy was familiar with. This was cloudy, murky, like a stagnant pool, freshly disturbed, silt and sludge floating through and obscuring sight.
Through the murkiness, as it gradually alternated more and less clear, Adrian could see the occupant; greenish-grey skin, sagging and loose in spots, unnaturally tight in others; facial tendrils withered and curled, revealing an unnatural, mutant mouth. Below the head, though, the body grew more and more impossible to distinguish. Should Adrian look closely, he'd see the flesh that was rotting away just as quickly as it was made to heal back.
A body, still, nearly lifeless, constantly dissolving away even as it was forced to reform and grow again. A mindless entity, radiating nothing but pain, agony, into the Force around it.
Then, the dark presence that Adrian could feel suffuse the ship retreated into the body within an instant. The agony, radiating outwards in waves, suddenly ceased, replaced with a searing cold sense of determination and rage that could make all but the strongest willed beings shudder.
The body stirred, the head lifting slightly; monitors began to sound alarms in response to the sudden change, the elevating heart rate.
And the eyes opened. Sunken, sightless, and yet the nearly seemed to glow with the Dark Side, the gaze piercing through every obstacle to settle on the form of
AMCO
. It fell still, again, though the gaze never wavered, as the presence that had reinhabited the body extended itself back out towards the visitor it had called forth.
In his mind, Adrian would soon hear a soft chuckle.
I see you share some of Vereshin's proclivities in humour, as well as in quality of lifestyle.
From there, the passage to the hidden sanctum of the vessel was quick, as all such hidden pathways ultimately led to it. Enabling Tsisaar and his servants easy access to any part of the ship they needed to reach, and providing an inescapable trap for the unwary, unwise acolytes and knights who thought to explore beyond their bounds.
Unlike the last time a visitor had been called forth, Tsisaar's private suite-laboratory was clean and empty, save for some work tables, and the massive contraption that dominated one wall of the space, the true heart of the vessel. Numerous machines, pumps, monitors; tubes, carrying various fluids, some mundane, and others highly alchemical, to the central apparatus. Innumerable wires, some of which, at closer glance, revealed themselves to be transformed, crystalline threads, optic fibers made of carefully teased and altered kyber crystal, that twisted their way until each connected to its own faintly glowing rune, expertly carved by a master of Sith sorcery.
Another machine, pumping bright red, clean, healthy blood in one direction; and its twin, siphoning away a blackened, thick, syrupy liquid.
In the center, a bacta tank, though one on overdrive, constantly cycling and filtering the miracle healing liquid through its central reservoir, which all the wires and tubes could be seen feeding into. Yet, despite the effort, the liquid inside was not the transparent, blue-tinted liquid that the galaxy was familiar with. This was cloudy, murky, like a stagnant pool, freshly disturbed, silt and sludge floating through and obscuring sight.
Through the murkiness, as it gradually alternated more and less clear, Adrian could see the occupant; greenish-grey skin, sagging and loose in spots, unnaturally tight in others; facial tendrils withered and curled, revealing an unnatural, mutant mouth. Below the head, though, the body grew more and more impossible to distinguish. Should Adrian look closely, he'd see the flesh that was rotting away just as quickly as it was made to heal back.
A body, still, nearly lifeless, constantly dissolving away even as it was forced to reform and grow again. A mindless entity, radiating nothing but pain, agony, into the Force around it.
Then, the dark presence that Adrian could feel suffuse the ship retreated into the body within an instant. The agony, radiating outwards in waves, suddenly ceased, replaced with a searing cold sense of determination and rage that could make all but the strongest willed beings shudder.
The body stirred, the head lifting slightly; monitors began to sound alarms in response to the sudden change, the elevating heart rate.
And the eyes opened. Sunken, sightless, and yet the nearly seemed to glow with the Dark Side, the gaze piercing through every obstacle to settle on the form of
AMCO
. It fell still, again, though the gaze never wavered, as the presence that had reinhabited the body extended itself back out towards the visitor it had called forth.In his mind, Adrian would soon hear a soft chuckle.
I see you share some of Vereshin's proclivities in humour, as well as in quality of lifestyle.
AMCO
I'm Sorry Dave
The laboratory which served as his destination was much like any other, but its centrepiece was another matter entirely - was it the source of the strangeness that had called him? Not quite, alone it lacked purpose, identity, consciousness... but then it was not meant to operate alone.
<That and more. A healthy respect for time comes to mind.>
An innocuous enough comment, unless of course the other party knew of Vereshin's meddlings with space and time alike.
Meddlings which had made certain facts and realities pertaining to his former master... somewhat fluid.
<Your receptacle seems a bit, ah, frayed at the edges.> Head remoulding itself into the perfectly symmetrical human form he usually favoured, the Sith Lord stepped closer, eying the decaying body - the presence's original body, if he was not mistaken - with some interest. <I hope you haven't grown sentimental in your isolation, Tsisaar. That's never a good look for one seeking to push at the boundaries of possibility.>
He himself had meddled with his body to the point where nothing of significance remained of the human he had once been - save his mind, of course. He would never purposefully compromise the integrity of his own thoughts, his own feelings, his own identity.
<That and more. A healthy respect for time comes to mind.>
An innocuous enough comment, unless of course the other party knew of Vereshin's meddlings with space and time alike.
Meddlings which had made certain facts and realities pertaining to his former master... somewhat fluid.
<Your receptacle seems a bit, ah, frayed at the edges.> Head remoulding itself into the perfectly symmetrical human form he usually favoured, the Sith Lord stepped closer, eying the decaying body - the presence's original body, if he was not mistaken - with some interest. <I hope you haven't grown sentimental in your isolation, Tsisaar. That's never a good look for one seeking to push at the boundaries of possibility.>
He himself had meddled with his body to the point where nothing of significance remained of the human he had once been - save his mind, of course. He would never purposefully compromise the integrity of his own thoughts, his own feelings, his own identity.