Funami Teriyaki
Pink Terror of Doom
Most would see a carefree ramble, accompanied by a somewhat infantile tune. The simple melody raced on the whipping winds that rolled over the inhospitable desert world until it succumbed to the howls of hungry beasts that stalked the place in search of prey. Seemingly innocent, the tune obtained a sinister edge once one realized it originated from a little, out of place brat who had survived Korriban so far despite overwhelming odds. Truly, small in stature and spoiled to the core, wearing bright clothes and appearing nothing like Sith, the child should have perished long ago. Many beasts and tomb raiders had tried challenging the little Sith along the way and that many had died, adding their bones to the greatest graveyard in the galaxy. They were nothing more than insignificant ants getting in her way – snuffing them out was no different than swatting annoying insects. But despite the carefree appearance, there was a destination to her journey.
On her belt dangled the curved hilt of a lightsaber. She was to start her training today. Within a nameless tomb, she’d learn to handle the signature weapon of Force users. A fitting place to train, she pondered. Surrounded by bad spirits and evil energies. It also saved the teacher the trouble should she die. Just another heap of bones for the tomb. Sith things.
With her trademark parasol in hand, Funami skipped through the deadly plains of Korriban without a worry in her pink-haired head. For most, the ancestral world of Sith was a battle for survival. For many, the final resting place. For her, an adventure. Dozens of whitened bones wordlessly accused her of murder as she continued humming innocently, playfully kicking up the sand as she went. The path trodden by her black shoes was one rarely traveled. Not just by her socked legs, but others – robbers, artifact hunters, other aspiring Sith who hoped to find their ticket to greatness.
The Valley welcomed the girl in its own way. Never suffering from activity and life, the place appeared forsaken at a glance, yet the occasional footprint in the sand and the hushed whisper of ancient spirits here and there betrayed the deceptive mask of desertion. Casting a long shadow over the ground, the little Sithling strolled through the place until she finally reached one of the monumental crumbling graves that proudly housed some rotting Sith corpse. She let her violet eyes glaze over it and determined it to be the right place. The gaping entrance suggested the place had been raided a dozen times already. Her steps edged closer, clicking up the massive stone blocks leading to the entryway. Unable to read ancient Sith, she had zero clue what the inscriptions etched into the surrounding walls said.
Without a hint of hesitation, she slipped through the arc anyway and escaped the sun’s broiling gaze.
On her belt dangled the curved hilt of a lightsaber. She was to start her training today. Within a nameless tomb, she’d learn to handle the signature weapon of Force users. A fitting place to train, she pondered. Surrounded by bad spirits and evil energies. It also saved the teacher the trouble should she die. Just another heap of bones for the tomb. Sith things.
With her trademark parasol in hand, Funami skipped through the deadly plains of Korriban without a worry in her pink-haired head. For most, the ancestral world of Sith was a battle for survival. For many, the final resting place. For her, an adventure. Dozens of whitened bones wordlessly accused her of murder as she continued humming innocently, playfully kicking up the sand as she went. The path trodden by her black shoes was one rarely traveled. Not just by her socked legs, but others – robbers, artifact hunters, other aspiring Sith who hoped to find their ticket to greatness.
The Valley welcomed the girl in its own way. Never suffering from activity and life, the place appeared forsaken at a glance, yet the occasional footprint in the sand and the hushed whisper of ancient spirits here and there betrayed the deceptive mask of desertion. Casting a long shadow over the ground, the little Sithling strolled through the place until she finally reached one of the monumental crumbling graves that proudly housed some rotting Sith corpse. She let her violet eyes glaze over it and determined it to be the right place. The gaping entrance suggested the place had been raided a dozen times already. Her steps edged closer, clicking up the massive stone blocks leading to the entryway. Unable to read ancient Sith, she had zero clue what the inscriptions etched into the surrounding walls said.
Without a hint of hesitation, she slipped through the arc anyway and escaped the sun’s broiling gaze.
[member="Vaulkhar"]