Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Visitor (Azula Yeshevsky's introduction to the Sith Assassins)

There was no air like that of the underground. It was thick, murky, and reeked of crime. Some people love it, others hate it. Azula had no specific opinion on the setting, she was used to it by now. The Echani fighter currently sat across the transport as she found her way 'home'. Slight bruises and cuts marked her arms and sides from the fights. She winced as she touched them, her fair skin scarred all over. She was happy that the tattoos she had covered some of them. Though, the images were not exactly something she chose to mark herself with. It was if anything embarrassing.

Azula shook the thought and in doing so she realized the trans unit had slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. She stood up and walked out, pulling her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her katana. She through the strap around her shoulder and made her way home.

After a short walk Azula found her way to the old apartment, she stepped inside and began walking passed the rooms, a few people waved and she waved back. Others sent her nasty looks, to which she ignored. The twenty one year old then reached the end of the hall and turned to her room, room four nineteen. Waiting for her, like the devil, was who taught her how to fight. He stopped her and looked down, his hand out. Azula took the credits and placed them in his hand, looking into his cold eyes. He grinned and ruffled her raven hair, throwing a few of the credits on the floor. "Keep it." He said and pushed her door open, walking off.

Azula stepped in, throwing her bag beside the small room and placing the katanas beside the bed. She then pulled her hair back and tucked it into a high ponytail. Azula sat on her bed. She took the vioflute off of the window and looked at the small layer of dust collecting over the strings, with a sigh she placed it back and laid down on the bed.

It didn't take long for the girl to fall asleep.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
A prospect has been observed in the Coruscant Undercity, frequenting fight clubs. Judging from her style, she may be Echani-trained. The prospect is humanoid, dark of hair, light of skin and carries two curved blades with wrapped handles and disk-guards. Watch out for the male who frequents her floor. Their relationship is not yet quite clear to us, but it is known that she pays him. He is rumoured to be a more than capable fighter, probably Echani as well. Subject coordinates, image, and holovid from her fights are below.

Darth Ophidia shifted in her seat as she swiped down on the datapad and opened the holovids, inspecting the girl's capabilities. Their agents could do so much, but they were not good at recruiting; for that they needed a true Sith. The videos were mildly impressive, but nothing she had not seen before. She paused one of the videos and looked at her opponent, one she recognised from their files. A smile crept over her lips; this one may be worth a visit after all.

She shut down and tucked away the datapad before getting to her feet. The black robes draped around her form as she strode past her desk and plucked her beskar helmet from the surface. She turned it in her hand and placed it over her head as she passed through the door, the hall, the corridors, and finally out to the canopied undercity with its artificial lights. The Sith Lord, her presence subdued to where she would appear as an non-force sensitive, straddled a speederbike and plotted in the coordinates. With a woosh, she was off. It was not long before she was near Azla's building.

Stepping up to the building, she flicked the stealth-field generator of her armour. It made her nothing but an oscillation in the air. The outer door opened before her, not even slowing her stride. As she passed through the building, she let her presence spread like a cloud of immense cold. Yet, its centre was difficult to pin-point. Wherever she went was now preceded with a sense of dread and creeping shadows. Hands clasped behind her back, she strode casually through the halls, yet made no sound. None stood in doors to wave or give her the stink-eye, but young and old alike tossed in their beds as she passed. Then, Darth Ophidia stopped at room 419.

Her gloved hand reached out and touched the door, she could feel the one inside. With a deep exhale, the Sith Lord pushed through the door as though it was a mere illusion. Her translucent form passed through the matter and she strode into Azula's apartment. Shutting down the stealth field, she passed along the walls to Azula's bedside.

[member="Azula Yeshevsky"]
 
Azula was barely asleep, with the yelling from the rooms around hers and the loud sounds of clinking pans from the restaurant just outside the window it seemed that no one here slept but her. With a sigh she rolled over and tried to situate her body.

After falling asleep for just a moment, she felt a cold chill in the room. It ran through her body like nothing she had ever felt. As she fluttered her eyes open she could have sworn she saw a figure. Although at this point it seemed there was no noise, just her own soft breathing. That was what clued her in, that something was happening. Not once in her life had she slept in silence.

The young Echani lifted her head and looked up once more, she was hesitant to open her eyes. Afraid even... yet, people like her didn't feel fear.

With a deep breath Azula quickly opened her eyes. And as if it were painted into her mind she saw the figure again. It seemed to be a female. She stood beside her bed, her skin so pale it was as if she was a ghost. She wore a black robe and a beskar helmet. Azula stared at the figure for a moment, her mind not yet having processed it. When it hit her, without much thought Azula whispered.

"Are you the devil?"

It was with this that the fear left her, she remembered the words of him, and all the others. These words were imprinted in her mind forever. Maybe this demon was here to take her away from this life. And if that were the case, maybe she should look forward to it.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
"Are you the devil?"

The devil; there were some who would call her such, people she had hurt in one way or another. That was her business after all. She was a deliverer of pain and of relief. This time, she had come to give an opportunity.

"Devil to some, saviour to others."

Her voice had a natural rasp to it which was accented by the distortion of her helmet. The mirrored eyes of her helm stared down at Azula's form. Ophidia's left hand reached inside her robes and pulled out a vibrodagger. She knew the girl had her own weapons, but this one was a token of the task she would ask of her. Her proposition came with a trial.

"I am merely an agent of death."

She turned the blade between her thumb and forefinger and presented the hilt to Azula. It was a dagger of simple, utilitarian design with its comfortable grip and sleek edge. A dagger meant for use, not decorative carrying.

"And I have come to offer you a chance to change your destiny. "

[member="Azula Yeshevsky"]
 
With the dagger presented to her, Azula, still hazy grabbed the hilt and sat up from her sleeping position. She fluttered her eyes until her vision was clear, running the edge of the blade across her fingertip.

She winced as a thin line of blood drew and dripped onto her white sheets. This was her way of testing the blade. It was clean, sharpened, and finely crafted. A good dagger.

The blader then glanced up to the visitor, her amber eyes staring into the helm, she wondered if there was even a face underneath it.

"It's a fine blade." She said, her voice somber. Azula rubbed her eyes and let out a short and silent yawn. She pulled the covers off of her with one arm, making sure to keep her eyes on the 'guest'.

Azula then bit the edge of her lip and slightly raised her brow. "You speak of destiny, agent of death. What if one has already crossed their destiny, and learnt that fate will never let you slip away." As she spoke the volume of her voice raised, as if her emotions were spiking, however she quickly returned to a whisper.

After a moment of silence, Azula finally asked the mysterious women.

"What would you offer me?"

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
As Azula got up and moved, Darth Ophidia stepped back and gave her space. She turned her head to follow the girl wherever she moved, keeping her in sight. Ophidia's hands slipped under her cloak and clasped behind her back, quite close to her two lightsabres, which were placed within convenient reach and out of sight. It was not that she felt she needed them. Rather, she kept her hands close to them of habit.

"Then I would offer you a chance, not to slip away, but to take a stranglehold of your destiny."

There was a slight raise in her voice at these words. They were not just parts of a factual statement, they were the testament of a way of living that transcended the mundane existence of most. She truly, with every ounce of her being, believed it to be the best possible path for anyone to take. If she did not, then she would not have taken it herself.

"I offer you a chance to fulfil your greatest potential, to become more powerful than you could ever imagine."

She took a step, shifting her stance to be broader, her right hand coming free from its clasped position and opening, palm up. The left hand staying behind at the small of her back, clenched into a fist. She calmed, settling back into a cold stillness.

"You may ask yourself; are you content in merely surviving, or do you want to live?"

Her right hand gestured out to her current surroundings as she pointed to survival, almost as though sweeping it away. When she gave the second part of the proposition, she once more put her hand forward, as though presenting a gift. And she was. Not everyone were given the chance to become Sith.

[member="Azula Yeshevsky"]
 
As the pale women spoke, Azula let her eyes pan to the window, her guests words fading together as she saw the image of a man beating a women in the alley below. Was it a sign, or just a sheer coincidence? Did it even matter? Though, Azula knew then, that strangling her destiny sounded good. Just, a lot sounded good.

"Yeah, yeah sure." She said, waving her hand and sighing.

Azula then looked at the women once again, and like a force awoken inside her, something clicked. She slowly stood from her bed, keeping her eyes on the sith and nodding slightly to herself. She then took in a deep breath and pushed her bangs from her eyes. Making sure to keep her katanas close by.

"If I were to take this offer, what would you have me do?" She asked, a nervousness to her voice that she hadn't heard in a long time.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
The waved hand, the sighing. She had thought this one would have shown a shred of enthusiasm. It would seem she did not quite share Darth Ophidia's sense of theatrics. It did not matter, however. The choice was equally valid, and the task equally important. The nervousness in the girl's voice told her all she needed to know about her willingness to change her situation. The Sith Lord let silence fall, enjoying the tension as she kept her eyes on the hopeful, and then she spoke.

"All you need to do, is to kill your oppressor."

Her open palm curled into talons, and then a clenched fist. It was the first step for all who would be Sith, to cut down the monolith that kept them in their place. Only then would she be able to rise to her proper station. Sith were strong, and the strong ruled. Even the Sith Assassins, obscured in shadow, were not exempt to power and influence over the mundane peoples of the galaxy.

"You know who keeps you living in squalor: Destroy them."

Darth Ophidia's voice become nearly a whisper, a hiss, as she urged the young woman to kill her ties to this place. She watched, gauging for a reaction. Of course, she had noticed that the girl moved close to her weapons. Such crude blades would never stand up against the weapons she wielded, but the girl did not need to know, yet.

[member="Azula Yeshevsky"]
 
Even before the women spoke this, it was as if Azula had already heard her. She knew this was the proposition. It wasn't new to her. She has been facing this for her whole life. She kept hearing her words though, over and over, it repeated in her head.

"Kill your oppressor."

Over, and over.

Kill Vladimir? She has faced this before. When she was 13, the girl put a knife to his throat and imagined doing it, but she couldn't. She didn't know it at the time, but Azula was diagnosed with Stockholm syndrome. Killing Vladimir would be hard for her because... she secretly loved him. Nevertheless, if this opportunity presented to her was what she imagined it was, she had to try.

Her posture then changed. She placed the vibrodagger on her nightstand, a wince of a grin forming on her lips.

"I need to put some clothes on first."

She looked down to see her body shown in all its glory, not trying to hide anything as she looked back to the pale women.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
Azula's lack of apparel did not do anything for or against Ophidia. She had not really thought of it save for the fact that Azula could hardly hide much on bare skin. Even now, she did not make any attempt at turning away or giving any semblance of privacy to the girl. She simply clasped her hands behind her back, under her cloak, and waited. While waiting, she listened in on their surroundings and probed the area.

"I advice you to pack your bags as well."

If she stayed, she would always be slave. If not a slave to Vladimir, then a slave to Vladimir's ghost or some substitute; slaves sought attachment in one form or another. Only by cutting all ties to her former self would Azula shed the skin of the servant.

"Unless you find nothing worth keeping."

Ophidia had the complete intention of severing this girl from her old ties. Anything less would be a half hearted attempt at escape, and the training of Sith ate such hearts ravenously to fuel those who truly sought perfection.

Through victory my chains are broken.

[member="Azula Yeshevsky"]
 

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