Matsu Xiangu
The Haruspex
"You know nothing of me... Sith...!"
[SIZE=12pt]“No? I used to be a lot like you. More than you’d care to know, I would think…”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] She paused when she thought she heard the scrape-squeak of a boot against the floor but all was immediately silent again. A shadow waned across the marble flooring as a newscamera panned across the bank of windows, the orange-purple glow of the setting sun setting the room ablaze. The blade of the saber seemed to match the scene when Nejaa lit it and stood to face her, the raw sound of his voice fighting through blood-choked airways reminding her of stranglings, a gurgling begging of a symphony.[/SIZE]
"... Do you hurt?"
[SIZE=12pt]Bent to one side, it was obvious pain was ripping through her body from seared flesh assaulted by fresh air where the bodysuit had burned away instead of in to her skin. But still the Atrisian only smiled when he taunted, enjoying the irony of him standing and facing her with a Sith’s blade in hand.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] “I do hurt. Burning is agony, something I’m sure you’re at least familiar with one way or another considering your power of choice. But do you know what I believe? Pain makes you perfect. Suffering is glory. This is a gift, Nejaa. This will make me even better.” Her pupils were pins in her fanatic excitement, a woman on the cusp of meeting with her G O D, her alpha and omega. She was the pale-maenad prostrate in the mud, shins in casts of peat as she bent at the waist over and over, screaming praise to her deity, something she made out of wood and scrap and moss – an effigy to Suffering she broke off her fingernails cobbling together. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] Did he hurt? His wounds were fantastic, enough to send even the strong of heart to their knees. His eye dangled along his cheek and his breath rattled across the space between them and still he stood defiant. But did he hurt? Matsu didn’t move despite the threat of his saber, enough space between them to ward too much of a surprise. But his power meant she would never put down her guard.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] “Do you think you can go back to your Jedi now, little Nejaa? You weren’t there on Kashyyyk. And now a street thirty stories below is full of corpses you made with your own two hands.” She paused, tilting her head and blinking at him in a way that wasn’t entirely human. Her lips were pulled up in a smirk, fangs she’d filed herself peeking through over dark lips. “I saw you cut down a child. You killed a little girl right in front of her mother.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] She took a step forward, reaching out for his mind, a slow and gentle grasp that might feel just like coming home. “You belong with me, Nejaa. There’s something you were made for, and you’re supposed to be with me…”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]“No? I used to be a lot like you. More than you’d care to know, I would think…”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] She paused when she thought she heard the scrape-squeak of a boot against the floor but all was immediately silent again. A shadow waned across the marble flooring as a newscamera panned across the bank of windows, the orange-purple glow of the setting sun setting the room ablaze. The blade of the saber seemed to match the scene when Nejaa lit it and stood to face her, the raw sound of his voice fighting through blood-choked airways reminding her of stranglings, a gurgling begging of a symphony.[/SIZE]
"... Do you hurt?"
[SIZE=12pt]Bent to one side, it was obvious pain was ripping through her body from seared flesh assaulted by fresh air where the bodysuit had burned away instead of in to her skin. But still the Atrisian only smiled when he taunted, enjoying the irony of him standing and facing her with a Sith’s blade in hand.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] “I do hurt. Burning is agony, something I’m sure you’re at least familiar with one way or another considering your power of choice. But do you know what I believe? Pain makes you perfect. Suffering is glory. This is a gift, Nejaa. This will make me even better.” Her pupils were pins in her fanatic excitement, a woman on the cusp of meeting with her G O D, her alpha and omega. She was the pale-maenad prostrate in the mud, shins in casts of peat as she bent at the waist over and over, screaming praise to her deity, something she made out of wood and scrap and moss – an effigy to Suffering she broke off her fingernails cobbling together. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] Did he hurt? His wounds were fantastic, enough to send even the strong of heart to their knees. His eye dangled along his cheek and his breath rattled across the space between them and still he stood defiant. But did he hurt? Matsu didn’t move despite the threat of his saber, enough space between them to ward too much of a surprise. But his power meant she would never put down her guard.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] “Do you think you can go back to your Jedi now, little Nejaa? You weren’t there on Kashyyyk. And now a street thirty stories below is full of corpses you made with your own two hands.” She paused, tilting her head and blinking at him in a way that wasn’t entirely human. Her lips were pulled up in a smirk, fangs she’d filed herself peeking through over dark lips. “I saw you cut down a child. You killed a little girl right in front of her mother.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt] She took a step forward, reaching out for his mind, a slow and gentle grasp that might feel just like coming home. “You belong with me, Nejaa. There’s something you were made for, and you’re supposed to be with me…”[/SIZE]
[member="Nejaa Niynx"]