To Cross Over. All The Way.

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Residential Areas.

This place he recognized with solid familiarity. In fact, he wondered if the punch code would still work in opening the door, but didn't try. Instead, curled fingers ripped the entire frame loose, prying it from cold durasteel and mechanical bits and tossing it backwards behind him. Already there was screaming, already there were scantily clad bodies running around in a state of chaos. Behind him and around him there was more of it, more of all of it. Humans, aliens, even droids and holo-droids buzzed around in a flurry of nervous curiosity. Lights flickered and sparks blasted from a wall now torn open.

"You're in my home."

It had taken Nejaa about three hours by air taxi to get here, his skin warn and weathered from so much shifting. The cuts and tears around his neck had long since stopped their bleeding and now remained as sore scabs, whispering to him that he couldn't be restrained again. That he wouldn't be. Feet bare still, belly and chest exposed to the frigid air, Nejaa stepped into the breeched apartment without a second's delay. Inside, a mother and father safeguarded their children. None of them were human, but they weren't all of matching species. A blue twi'lek female, hands wrapped around two children of differing colors. The father was someone near human, though yellow-gold stripes along his course body gave him away as a kiffarian offshoot.

Oh, they tried to plead. The mother first, then the father with something more sturdy, but they all fell. Nejaa's eyes never left their own as he drown them in forced fate. First, the mother rose until her feet left the ground, he hands falling hard to her own throat and her breathing ceasing altogether. A choking sputter. Screams of fear from the children watching the end of their makers, then they were silenced with a concussive blast of fire, smearing them along the back wall as well as collapsing it. The father fell last, one final shout, one final plead of confused desperation. Then his corpse was blasted into red ribbons, picked up as slop and thrown again with the force. Floating holo-droids tried to catch whatever footage they could upload, three of them, each in service to the planet's media and each pushed to a breaking point. Smashed without so much as a glance.

Nejaa's feet never stopped moving. Among mortals such as these he was a god. The enslaved, and oppressed, the scum ruled by sith- they all deserved to die, nothing less, nothing more. He knew each room, eyes like plumes of heat devouring it all. Even against the roar of lit flame, he could hear the sounds of distress from outside. The many feet which surely scoured towards him, men and women with blaster in hand- trying to help. They too would suffer, picked up, thrown about like rag dolls, slammed together and ripped in two. Gore sunk through hard wood flooring right down into the foundations.

"StayAWAAYFROM ME!! ALL OFYOU!!"

They didn't seem to understand. They didn't seem to realize the gravity of his words. A neimoidian, a rodian, two humans and a nautolan all rushed the boy at once. Each of them was brandishing something, but not enough to remove Nejaa. "STAYAWAY!" Another pulse of the force and the nautolan was thrown hard enough against a wall's interior to break him brain into vegetation.

Tear them apart, Nejaa, rip them limb for limb...
Remove the plague of the sith, remove them all...
Slaughter them like they want to slaughter you, Nejaa...

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Torin Varik"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Sage Bane]

In general, Sage did not enjoy doing favors for his brother, but somehow he always seemed to get suckered into doing the Chiss’s deplorable bidding. Mostly, the Sith Knight ended up acquiescing out of some strange sense of familial obligation, one he still wasn’t sure why he felt in the first place. Even if he wanted to say no, Cryax was not only close, personal friends with the Wrath of the Dark Lord, although how his detestable sibling actually managed to charm venerated folks like the esteemed, one-eyed Vong King was completely beyond him, but also, the Chiss was one of the leaders of a decent-sized criminal syndicate that was growing like weeds through the Coruscant Undercity. In other words, all things considered, Cryax’s friends were not people he wanted on his bad side.

The mission Sage agreed to was simple: Hunt a Jedi who was hiding out in Coruscant and haul him to the Chiss, alive and unharmed. The first part would be easy, especially since the man was a sitting duck with that tracking chip buried in his neck. Sage made no promises about bringing him back unharmed. From the wreckage that were once his brother’s droids, the young man looked to be at least a Jedi Knight. If he and Sage faced off, there were bound to be some battle scars. Sage was not only a skilled illusionist, but as a former slave on Nal Hutta he had spent years honing barbaric, pit fighting skills that earned him the childhood nickname of kaae dohdoha, Huttese for “little barbarian.”

The Coruscant sky was blood-orange red with dappled grey clouds as dusk was beginning to settle over the sector for the evening. Dressed in a long, black cloak over lightly armored clothing, Sage wore a Datalogger on his wrist that showed his target, Nejaa Niynx as a little blue dot on the Holomap. The Sith Knight had followed his little blue dot to a residential district about three hours away from the CRC’s headquarters by taxi. The neighborhood was a far cry from the underworld’s flophouses which were overflowing with deathstick-sucking vagrants. The people who lived in this sector of the city were ordinary, middle class folks, such as teachers, civil servants, and pilots. At first, it seemed like a strange hideout spot, but perhaps its mundanity made it ideal.

Sage leaned casually against a duracrete column, right outside the apartment building where the runaway Jedi was presumed to be. His jaw twitched in surprise as he felt a very strong dark sided presence in the building where his blue dot was. He breathed the turbulent, wrathful sensations into his lungs, letting them swell into his body, waking the three heads of his sentient, sleeping arm. Sage noticed that he did not need to use his Force powers to gain access to the building. In fact, there was no longer a door at the building's entrance, only a smoking hole where a door should be. Soundlessly, he slipped inside and began to hunt.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Residential Areas.

It was straight to the bedrooms, doors and obstacles no longer any match for him. None were opened either, everything was torn and thrown about. Even when his arms didn't move, even when he made no effort to cause chaos it occurred around him. Windows cracked under the pressure of something more intense than they were built for, shattering into thin lines of sharp material and falling on the ground- just waiting to cut whoever was unlucky enough to tread there upon. And he moved, untying what little fabric covered him and letting it drop to the flooring so that skin now was the only garment he wore. And he wore it well, all of it shaping and changing at once, smoothing and gaining color, flexing and tightening until he was once more human-like. Dirt, dust, and a thin layer of sweat reflected the dancing fire around him. His eyes did the same, though they seemed to produce their own heat; ignite, rather than reflect. A slender back, framed by shoulder bones which moved under false flesh, the physical illusion of humanity. He needn't stress himself with haste though he moved quickly, nor worry about the forces arming against him even now, he was calling out to them.

Try it, slime.

The last room was where he stopped his running gate, standing tall in the door frame and scouring over everything inside. Sheets on a bed which had been clearly thrown about in sudden shock, a side table which looked still peaceful. Clothes and various items lay scattered on the ground. Naked body yet uncovered, Nejaa slid inside and fell to the room's far right corner. Without knowing what he was up to, it might look like he had stuck himself into a crouched position, like he was scuttling and looking for something. And indeed he was, pulling apart a small ventilation shaft and reaching into it as if expecting to find- "Frack! Frack- FRACK." Apparently nothing. Long years previous he had hidden a single, stolen training saber from his days as a youngling. It must have been found and confiscated. A powerful fist met the closest wall hard enough for things to fall off of it. Picture frames, one of which nearly hitting him, and the contents of a small shelf dumped onto the floor.

Nejaa tossed himself to the side, avoiding a barrage of heavy things and rising only to find support at the edge of a chest of drawers, shaking his left hand as if to cleanse his error.

Clothes.

It sounded for the first time as a thin, black, long sleeved shirt was about half way around Nejaa's neck; no doubt belonging to the Kiffar father he'd just slain. The unclear cry of an infant. Nejaa whirled round, eyes wide, heart torn wider. No, please no. Please, please, no. Arms fell through their assigned holes, and he could finally see- but he didn't want to. There, amidst the smoke and folds was something moving under the blankets. Something making noise, kicking about, confused and angered without perhaps knowing it yet. He couldn't be held responsible- he wouldn't be held responsible, so Nejaa turned as if he hadn't seen a thing. But his face was changed. Like a single drop of paint into a clear glass of water, he felt it all begin to infect him. Maybe he didn't notice it, but his movements became rushed, clumsy and without regard. Lips trembled, and his brow raised and pressed together. Pants, black and simple pulled up over his legs, and the child cried out again, breaking and splitting into the head aching yell for its mother. He couldn't look at it again, couldn't bring himself to judge it guilty as he had its family. Couldn't tear it apart, nor feast on the feeling of doing so. That pitched noise poisoned him, he could feel it weakening his bones.

"Shut up! SHUT UP, SHUTUP SHUTUPSHUTUP!!"

He hissed and yelled, but that fire-of-a-boy wasn't the same. Couldn't be. And besides, it only sparked more noise, more screaming. He could just crush it, or strangle it there. Would it even understand what was happening? He could just leave it, let the elements finish his work for him- let fate care for it. His eyes were trained ahead, now specifically avoiding monster he had created for himself. But it only grew louder and louder, more and more pained by harsh smoke, finally snapping into a rough cough. Swallowing hard, Nejaa pushed away from the wooden furniture but couldn't leave the room. He couldn't, even when he wanted to, even when he knew he had to.

"Please... please stop crying..."

[member="Sage Bane"]

 

[Sage Bane]

The nightmarish things that Sage felt as he walked around residential building raised the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck. Bloodlust, confusion and rage, all mingled with the oppressive dark sided signature that permeated the building. Then Sage saw the carnage. Whole families of different species lay crumpled on the floor, soaked in each other’s blood, mouths hanging open with jellied eyes like those of dead fish.

Sage followed the trail of chaos and bodies to a nondescript apartment. From the corridor, he heard the sounds of a suffering infant, bereft of a mother’s solace, an agonizing sound that hit him right in the gut. His left arm, however, had other designs on the wailing. The raw hurt in the infant’s shrieks caused the leather heads of Sage’s amphistaves to push and strain against his masquer, chattering with an aching hunger. Flesh from the living was still the Vong-formed limb’s favorite delicacy, and no matter how much raw meat he fed it, it never seemed to be fully satiated until it was allowed to murder something. With a sigh of resignation, he let it loose from its glamour. The three sentient heads rose up triumphantly, their tentacle bodies forking outward in search of food. He gave the three rogue minds the mental equivalent of a sharp tap on the nose.

You only eat when I tell you to eat, and now is not the time. Settle now, or I will settle you for good.

Another sound mingled with the baby’s screams. Sage and his three superfluous heads turned simultaneously as four minds all heard the same male voice.

"Please... please stop crying..."

Sage made his way towards the voice’s owner, and found himself in a disheveled room in front of a half-naked young man who seemed to be paralyzed with a dangerous mixture of confusion, rage, and feral madness. The baby’s yowling was almost deafening from where the Sith Knight stood, and giving the infant a slow blink like a cat, Sage put it into a safe-and-sound sleep in its crib. Turning back towards the man, Nejaa, his target, the Sith Knight was awestruck at the sheer beauty of the creature standing in front of him. He suddenly suspected that his brother’s motives for wanting this man in his care were of the more prurient variety. Oh, the minor details that little blue queen forgot to mention.

As his amphistaves undulated like waves alongside his torso, Sage addressed his cornered prey with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Hello, Nejaa. My name is Sage Bane.”

The Sith Knight glanced down at his monstrosity of an arm and added:

“I hope you'll forgive me for my manners, but it’s not really that big on handshakes.”

[member="Nejaa Niynx"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Her connections to Cryax Bane were only just blossoming – a shame really, considering her affection for his younger brother. But between that link and her recent ascension to Empress of Coruscant (a self-styled title for a planet unused to monarchy before her rule, though for the most part she left the Senate to itself and just pulled strings where she saw fit) their burgeoning partnership was going famously.

And in a galaxy so large she should’ve been surprised to hear them whisper the name of a Jedi she’d met before.

Nejaa Niynx.

She was unwilling to step on her old apprentice’s toes, to share in a hunt – like lions they both were, prideful. And she wouldn’t. She just wanted to work with him in the capacity they knew now: friends perhaps, not master and student.

She was in the shadows when she saw Sage disappear in to the apartment complex, the strange marriage of light and dark struggling against one another pouring from within the building only confirming their prey resided within. It was hard to forget that strange signature. That day on Kashyyyk had afforded her no answers and she would understand him. She would see him turned, made to take the reins of his potential. The Jedi’s suffocating doctrines would only chain him.

Leaning against the same duracrete column the Sith Knight had taken up residence on, she allowed herself to sink in to his signature, follow him up every staircase. Closing her eyes she allowed the emotions pouring from the building to tell their own story, let her see without seeing. She felt a smirk tick up the corners of her mouth at the satisfaction in Sage’s signature. Kaae dohdoha licking his lips before a meal.

Pushing herself off the column she moved to the edge of the building, letting her claws out of the plexisteel of her hands before starting to scale the wall. (The tick of long spider-legs crawling over metal, sharp, ready for war, silken strands at odds with her plans.) Up and up and up to the floor, tracking familiar pings in the Force, until she found the window behind which hell was painted. A quick flutter of her hand unlocked the window from outside, her form crawling unnaturally through the opening before dropping to the floor.

“Hello Sage.”

Her gaze turned to the ‘Jedi’, his emotions nearly a wound in the Force they tore so strongly each way. Yellow ringed the near-black of her irises in the only evidence of her excitement.

“Small galaxy, hmm, Jedi?”

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Nejaa Niynx"]​

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Residential Areas.

“Hello, Nejaa. My name is Sage Bane...”
“... I hope you'll forgive me for my manners, but..."

Nejaa's pant's button had just popped back through the other side of the seem, he could feel it on fingers which put it in its proper place. But the zipper snagged him, pinched his finger and made him yelp- a jerked spasm of reaction. Out of everything said, everything that new voice wanted to communicate, Nejaa couldn't understand any of it. A low vibrato of a tenor's tone, the confidence backing it, and the way he spoke his words. Nejaa had seen a man- heard him. Felt him. A man who scared him, who triggered instinctual override. A man with something writhing at his side- something not right. Predator. His movements were made in the rumbling silence of a fire's chaotic appetite, spinning and thrusting his hand as if to push away. Reds and oranges, flame snapped forth like jet propulsion streams, no doubt tearing any potential foe to the ground and the walls with it. Flame enveloped nearly the entire room, weaving around every corner and touching everything with that lick of unquenched hunger. A hunger which hurt. Reeling backwards and stumbling Nejaa's grimace lit like smoldering coals, smoking palms readying for another assault, burning red skin- damaged from his own lack of control.

"I don't care! I don'tFRACKINGCARE! LEA- Leeaaveme alone!"

Another shot of fire, another blast with enough concussive force to level nearly every wall in the house. His hands stung, a distinct smell of melting flesh emanating from his own body- albeit, feint enough when combined with all of the other smells. Dust far from settling, spun about in the inferno, or fabrics, synthetics, plastics from toys... the plastic and cotton of a crib which had long ago been consumed by flames. Collateral damage to something Nejaa himself couldn't alone control. There were no more screams coming.

Destroy it Nejaa, destroy it and survive...
Burn this place down, raise it to the ground...
Take back what's yours, Nejaa, take back power....

Belly heaving under pressure, the film of sweat now lit and alive on his skin. Veins along his neck and forearms pumped heavy and sedated. His muscles were tired, his bones hurt, but he had to move. Even when doing so caused and created an angrily slurring moan of lactic acid which now slushed around his every inch. To move his legs meant to drag them, to raise his arms meant to expend energy he had rationed. His brain put forth only an old monitors dull humming, having come down from the spice's high hours ago and made now to suffer recoiling backlash. Using the force meant enduring the splitting head ache, moving his head tore further into the dozens of thin slices along his neck.

“Hello Sage...”
“Small galaxy, hmm, Jedi?”

Breathing became hard, oxygen was no longer abundant here. Even trying meant to maim the lungs with pitch black smoke. Wheeling to his left without looking, Nejaa found nearly everything to trip on but avoiding actually falling. Instead, his gate was broken and interrupted by numerous shambling stumbles. It wasn't audible against the deep base of foundational cracking and swelling roar of heat, but his lips trembled with a near crazed whimper. It wasn't until he actually saw the thing which hung there in the window's frame, actually laid eyes on the demon, that dread once again took hold of him. Abhorrence, spite, a lethal cocktail of anything pitch black and empty. He couldn't even raise a hand to attack, to shoot flame or push the creature of a woman away- all he could manage was a anemic stumble in the opposite direction.

What nightmare was this?
What FRACKING nightmare was this!?

"N-No... not you..."

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Sage Bane]

From the wreckage of a dismantled and cornered psyche, a shimmering fire king emerged. The boy became a raging inferno, the likes of which Sage had not yet seen in the ranks of the Sith or the Jedi. As his palms snapped outwards, fire burst out of his hands and licked over the entire room, climbing up the walls and engulfing all the furniture. The baby’s crib erupted into flames and burned to a crisp before the tiny sleeper within could feel any pain. Sage felt the flames blazing up his dark cloak, and he wrestled himself out of it, and flung it to the ground to burn into ash. Using the Force to bolster his muscles, the Sith Knight leapt forward in a front aerial flip, much like the one he used in his Ataru forms. Moving like a blur, Sage landed right behind the fire wielder. The Sith knight was not without his injuries. His pale skin began to blister where the flames had singed him, and parts of his clothing were tattered, pieces of fabric curling away. Oddly, someone else had caught the boy's attention, and the Jedi crouched and withered in that someone else's presence. Sage followed Nejaa's despondent gaze to the window.

A grin widened his face, even through his pain. His former Master had come to join the party and of course, had made a most dramatic and fitting entrance. How he would love to see the work she would make of the Jedi. To spin him up in her silk and drag him to her den to take him apart and put him back together. Sage's words whispered through the burning room to seep into her mind like a mental caress.

How I've missed you, Matsu. It's been too long since we've dined out together.

The Sith Knight's eyes flashed red for a moment, a prelude to his imminent strike. Then his arm attacked. The trio of tentacles moved like pythons, winding around the Jedi with a feral hunger. Their razor sharp teeth sunk into Nejaa’s flesh, seizing it so that they could constrict their black bodies around his limbs. One amphistaff wrapped itself around both his hands, tying them together. Another slipped around his shoulders and squeezed his already wounded neck. The third hovered right in front of Nejaa’s face, watching him as its brother stole his breath.

With Nejaa firmly held in place, Sage tilted his head in and whispered in the boy’s ear, his teeth gritted from the pain of his blistering burns.

“One false move, and the bodies of these creatures can turn razor-sharp and venomous, infecting you with a painful poison that will cut off your oxygen supply. One spit of poison in your eye will permanently blind you.

“If I were you, I would cut the burning man schtick. Right now.”

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Residential Areas.

It would seem a moment's hesitation could lead to a world of subjugation at any given time. Even while his fire burst through the walls to burn without stopping, and tore the house down with it, that slick slime of a human slipped through. Through and over, around and behind, movements which almost looked familiar-- those were the Jedi arts, the footwork, the way he had prepared for the jump, an-and the way he corrected his position so to land on feet. His speed was impossible, forgoing the obvious riskiness of aerial procedures. Everything he could manage he could only do so in stuttering proficiency. He had no words to speak, no immediate attack with which to vanquish this threat. He wasn't supposed to! How!? H-How had these two gotten here, how had they just known where to find him!?

And that woman, that demon of a woman staring in from the window like something even less human than himself. Someone who had seen through him once, and now only gazed to find things she had before missed. She had to go, she had to go now--! Nejaa's hands motioned his mind's will and pushed fire towards that horrid, perched witch. But that was as far as they'd go before something caught them. Something black and, and alive- smooth in one direction though scaled like razors in the other. So much stronger than whatever exhausted muscle-mass lay within his own body, both arms were yanked backwards, first left then right, and he didn't think of resisting. There wasn't much an option for that. Instead he rode the command as it was given, pushed in the direction each serpent requested though with much more fervor than could possible be accounted for. Enough just to sink his hands into enemy territory. Utilizing what he had been born into this world with, what had kept him sane and different than the other Jedi- an instinct to play outside of the rules.

“One false move, and the bodies of these creatures can turn razor-sharp and venomous, infecting you with a painful poison that will cut off your oxygen supply. One spit of poison in your eye will permanently blind you. If I were you, I would cut the burning man schtick. Right now.”

"Nng--!!"

They ran along his belt, scouring fingers. The left hand found its prize in the man's lightsaber- something so far superior than he could have hoped for in coming back home. It only took a second's fraction to remove it from the waist-level-hook and press its potentially-hot edge tightly into the assailant's ribs. His other hand grabbed a handful of whatever lay just below belt and threatened to crush-- Even as the third serpent wrapped around Nejaa's fragile neck, already torn and damaged, he spoke. It was strained. Rough sounding and gritted. If he could growl, it was this tone, his human's visage a clear guise for something far more feral.

"Poison doesn't killmenow! Fire'does- frackoff, filth!"

Split him open, Nejaa, show him what happens when you get too close...
Break them both, Nejaa, break them both until there's no more to break...
You can't hesitate, Nejaa, let us consume you...
Let us be you, Nejaa...

Thumb clicked, and the red blade would power through flesh if that flesh was not first relocated. Without fear, without noise or distraction, or the clutter of combat-- with only the whispers of the force in his ear there was always the one option. Kill. Kill to survive, kill to cleanse, kill to save and kill to live on to do more of it. Even if those serpents became slithering blades or even if they bit him with a poison he couldn't cure, that blade would do the job. But if it didn't, surely the supernova blast from his palm would, both attacks angled with an approximate aim at the creature's heart.

Run, sith. Run away, all of you run!

[member="Cryax Bane"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Sage Bane]

Suddenly, impossibly, there was a torrential downpour in the burning room, and Sage wondered if the ceiling had blown off. No, it was...coming from the sprinkler system above. Jets of cool water rained down on the flames, as the heat finally triggered the residential complex's sprinkler system. Even while he was doused, Sage felt a nagging ripple in the Force telling him there was incoming danger. The Sith Knight sensed the orange-yellow sparks welling up in Nejaa's palms, desperate fingers clawing for his lightsaber. As the red blade sizzled to life, one of Nejaa's hands managed to sneak between Sage's legs and clamp down on his manhood. He not only saw stars, but whole constellations and planets.

Sage's amphistaves were quickly learning just which hand it was that fed them, and the creatures sprang into action. Reacting to the intense surges of pain below Sage's belt, the amphistaves coiled even more tightly around Nejaa, seizing him in their muscular grips, and with the preternatural strength in their leathery bodies, hoisted him a foot off the ground. That karking disaster of a boy was flung straight across the room. Unfortunately, Sage wasn't fast enough to avoid the Jedi's attacks, and he howled with pain as he felt his own red plasma blade, ripping through his abdomen in tandem with a pulse of fire from the boy's hands, further burning already raw and blistered skin.

His amphistaves whipped around his own body, dampening the flames on his clothing. Blackened and burned, Sage whirled to face the Jedi with an edge of murder in his light brown eyes.

"You stoopa bukee," he hissed, slipping into Huttese, the tongue of his home world. "I can send one word to my brother's mind and in an instant, he will trip the switch on that lovely little device he put inside of you. He may want you, Nejaa, but trust me, blood is thicker than want. He will kill you."

Sage slowly lifted his human arm, his chalk-white skin bubbling from severe burns, and as he did, his fingers slowly curled into a claw. He began to use the strength of the Force itself to try and crush the bones in Nejaa's lightsaber hand.

"I'll take back what's mine, thank you very much."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Laughter, quiet waves of amusement, lapped across her telepathic bond with Sage. “It’s quite a habit we’ve formed, isn’t it?” She wondered where Fantes was, if he even still was. What had happened after the glitterstim and the blood had a haze that made separating reality and fantasy difficult. But perhaps they were both the same.

She smiled when she heard the Jedi protest her presence, an expression that pulled her demon’s features to relief so sharp she might cut glass.

Matsu. It was all she had ever been known by, followed by a last name half-wind and half-earth that sounded distinctly confused in the mouths of anyone not Atrisian. But she had another name, one she’d given herself when she’d been Knighted. Darth Yaomo. Though she followed little of the customs or traditions of her heritage she had great fondness for their language and art, and in this she was no different. Yaomo meant demon, a creature deeply ingrained in the dark and the occult. She saw the entire galaxy as the occult – a swirling, desperately gasping macrocosm hungering for her to know its secrets. But in this moment she found prophecy in her secret name: in Atrisian mythology, it was said demons sought immortality by consuming holy men.

She wasn’t so foolish to believe he couldn’t burn her alive with his pyrotechnic command, her body tensing in preparation when he turned his hands to her to unleash that power that had so astonished her during their first meeting. But Sage’s arm took care of business almost faster than her eyes could track – he’d established an impressive command over them it seemed, though she could hardly imagine a symbiosis with such destructive, hungry creatures was ever easy. (But it’s not supposed to be easy. Perfection came through suffering.)

As water poured from the sprinkler system, the prisms of light reflecting in the droplets caught in her eyelids, she listened to their struggle. She’d been in Nejaa’s head once, just long enough to inflict tremendous pain, and that left a door twice as easy to break down a second time if he wasn’t paying attention to her advance. (He breaks away, burning Sage, the man’s pain clear in her mind as his flesh bubbles – anger flares in her, the urge to break Nejaa growing.) The whirlwind of the Jedi’s emotions were clear as day and she followed their projection. (The pain arcing between them as Sage sets it on the delicate bones of the Jedi’s hand. She consumes.)

Turning her head to him her face lost all expression – as if she’d left, though in truth she was listening to the snippets of thought she could gather from him. Her voice was a thousand voices.

S͌ͨ̆̒̃ͧpͫͧ͋͆̈́̓̚l̽̇ͦ͆̈́ỉ̂t̍̎͂ͨ̔ͭ̃͗̓ ̓͊ͮ͐hͮ̊͛̿̊i̒̚m̔ͬ͂ ͩ̅̽̄̊́̚ȏ̓pͣ͂̽̔ͨ̐ͮ̆ě̃̔ͬͥṅ̇ͫ́ͨ̚,͆ͤ̇̐ͥ̉̾ ͧͮ͗̑͊N̎͌̊̎̎̈́̏̈́e̋̈́ͪ̆ͮ̏ͩ̈ͩjͧ̈́͊̔á̿̓aͬͤ͌ͮ̇,̽͛̏ ̓s̋̽ͥ̂̎ͯ̆̄̊h͛͗ͧ̉ͩ͛̆ŏ̋͊̐ͥͭ̍wͨ̉̊ͮ͆̋̋ ͦ͌̒ͦͤ̔͛͌h̓iͩ̃̐̓̾̐̚mͦ̎̐ͣ͌̉ ̅̀͛w͑̒h͐̅ͦͬ͒ͦȃͫ̂͛́̉̈́́t̂͌ ͥ͋̌͐̎ͨh̄a̿ͥp̃̊ͦ́̐ͣ̊ͪ͗p̏̅ͤe͑ͣ̈́̊n̉͒̉͋ͧs͗̀̎̿̃̉ͥ ̈́̏́̍͊w̉̓͛ͧhͤͨ̐ͭ̊̍͋e̍́n̒ͣ ̈́͊yͭ̍ͯͥ͆̊̽oͩͭ̿̏uͮ̔ͫ͑ ̒ͦ̑͋͂͛ͥ̿g̑ͪ̿̉̎ͫ̅̾ẽͩ̋ͤ̒ͦͩt͌͋͂ͬͯ̃ ͧ̏͂̇̇̐̂̋͌t́̏ͣ̚o̍ͧ̊͐̇̓̾̚o̓͂ ͒̇cͭ̏ͭl̃ͪ̉͗̄̔̂ͨ͊ǒ̒ͦ͂ͥ̌s̊̂̏ͣ̃̑̒e̔͋͐̍ͭ͆.́̂̿ͦͦ.ͯ̏̿͌̇̆̐̂.ͭ̿͊̑̒ͨ​

Break them both, Nejaa, break them both until there's no more to break...​

Undo them Nejaa, take back what's ours.​

If you wait Nejaa, you will die.​

L̰̖̘̤̤̞̗̬͎e̫̩̠͉̞̗͈̲t̗͇ ̥̲u̻͕̫̻̭̣͉̯̫ṣ̭̦̫͓͉̣ ͍̰͎͍͎̖̗̙̳b͉̱̝͍͍̲̻̖u̗̺͔͇̟r̝̜n̜͕͓̺̜͔ ͈̩ṯ̟̤̺ͅẖ̬̣̖̞e͎̩̙̬̙̗m̖̣͇̺ ̟͉̜a͍̻̥̰l̗̰̝̘̯̟i͉̥̻̪̳̜̱v̟̪̯͚̞̟̻̩e͍̪̗̫̙ ̖͙N̖̜̺e̠̝̯͚͉̹͉̖j̘̘͈a͍͇̻͇̹͙̼a̙̻̪͙.̯̻̤.̙͇͕͙̻̤͍̟̺.̦̺͍̗͉͔​

​

​

​

She would rather see him turned, a powerhouse of the Sith machine, than kill him. But she couldn’t deny what a sight it would be to watch him lose his mind, the magnificent final crescendo of the three of them decimating the building in their battle.

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Nejaa Niynx"]​

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Residential Areas.

Gravity pulled at Nejaa most uncomfortably, tightening the coiled and living snakes round his arms and tossing him aside like his weight meant nothing. His muscles ached, but were able to move nevertheless, a rattling slither of scaled release over his neck which dug holes into already-holes. Dragged serrated blades of living tissue through already sore damage, re opening them and beginning the blood’s flow anew. That wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was that his attack had hit, caused pain, forced his release, and gained him a weapon; and a far better one than the training blade he had come searching for. The floor hit hard, harder still with the near heat of burning flame and red hot tinder. He had done this before, he knew how to react here- when provided a fighting chance, he would fight. And he would kill, kill again, all to avoid whatever horrible fate could only be following him down each dull and darken alleyway of this horrific life’s path.

"I can send one word to my brother's mind and in an instant, he will trip the switch on that lovely little device he put inside of you. He may want you, Nejaa, but trust me, blood is thicker than want. He will kill you."


It wasn’t Soresu’s defensive training, nor the fierce Ataru which brought him to his feet once more. It was Juyo, the frowned upon style, which broke the fall and rose him back to his feet in an odd, contorted body flip. It almost looked like dancing, the way his legs kicked and swung and his back falling into a rolling concave. His lightsaber beat in pulses of red motion, fingers finding their natural grip on the new weapon. Perhaps it was true, or at least it was claimed in theory, that a Jedi was most powerful when wielding their own lightsaber- Nejaa had never agreed. Everyone else must only have been a slow learner.

“You…”

Nejaa’s scowl cut thin chunks of air in unison with his hissing exhale. Words would not scare him now, only motivate him, and that could be very bad for an enemy’s health. In a death wish and threat of his own, Nejaa spat onto the ground. Those fire obsessed eyes befell both of the vile scum in his company. The nightmare of a man who looked to be brethren of Cryax, only made different by humanity. The witch, the woman who looked past his skin and into some place so much deeper. Where he couldn’t guard himself with any tangible defense and where she could whisper in the place of that which guided him. Like his will was snapping, similar to small tendons and ligaments. Tearing, tearing and popping.

“I’ll kill you myself, filth. You mean nothing to me- if that slime wanted me dead he’d’ve killed me already. He wants me chained up and drugged as he had me before- I can't go back there-- I'mnotaSLAVE! Both of you… I’llkill you BOTH—!!“

Should the lightsaber’s hilt have been made with anything more flimsy, Nejaa might have smashed it long ago. By now, he had already positioned it so align with his palm as he trusted it was meant to be. Perhaps his hands were of similar size to Sage’s own, maybe just a lucky fit. Softened skin, white from still throbbing burns, rubbed away against the metals pressed tightly there upon. He would not relinquish this weapon, over his dead body- which wasn’t going to happen!

Right foot moved first, first in one direction then another, all while hovering just an inch above flooring. Torso wound up, then released, and with it a gargantuan wave of electric energy. Thin lines of purple and crimson reds, not the usual blue, and so much of it. In place of a fire’s explosion was a different, raw power. It was aimed at Matsu, thick enough to fry her alive should it reach unprotected skin- or metal prosthetics. Blade raised, poised in readied position and aimed at Sage as he moved, charging head first into his attack and closing the distance between himself and the witch. His own speed made such a pursuit near instant, proven prowess pushing him into a blade-first-leap towards his enemy. Should she move, certainly the smartest option if she much valued her face, his daring venture would lead him through the window, spiraling into oddly populated public areas with a painful thud’n'roll. It was brimming with curious Coruscant citizens, concerned fathers, drunken onlookers and action obsessed thugs. Noises, so many people all expressing shock at the same time, and the ‘vvvvvv' of his blade severing anyone who hindered his rolling land. Removing entire halves of people, or in some cases just the arms or legs. An alien with a species he hadn’t yet familiarized himself with lost only a diagonal section of her head.

One last turn, remaining low to the ground and eyes always vigilant for… her.

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Sage Bane]

There was one, singular word of Nejaa’s that plummeted down into Sage’s soul, pulling like an anchor. Slave. Was the escaped Jedi his brother’s slave? The Sith Knight had heard rumors about a new human trafficking ring rising up from the depths of the Coruscant Underworld. That wasn’t his brother’s operation was it? The conundrum this posed to Sage distracted him so greatly that his gaze was blank as Nejaa hurtled towards Matsu, the ruby red blade whirling through the air towards her. The usually focused hunter stared off into space with his lips slightly parted in disbelief and worry on his brow.

The sentient minds of his amphistaves made up for Sage’s faltering as their oil-black bodies cracked towards Nejaa like a trio of deadly whips, an attempt to sweep him off his feet as he ran past. However valiant their efforts, the creatures barely brushed the boy’s ankles. Nejaa vaulted through the open window through which Matsu had skittered, and the fallen angel ran unbridled out into the sector, his wings scorched, his red blade cutting a path through bodies. Strong morals were exquisitely thrown to the wind like the many severed limbs that began littering the street. The more the Coruscanti citizens crowded Nejaa, the more he sliced through flesh and bone, and it became clear that the boy was on a mad rampage. A few concerned citizens began firing blasters at the rogue Jedi in an attempt to stop the massacre, but even as Nejaa turned a watchful eye on his pursuers, he was too fast to hit.

Sage wished he could linger on the boy’s fall, but his own predatory instincts seized him instead. The Sith Knight's blood thrummed in his head, beating like a jungle drum, vibrations of hunger and pure alpha dominance. Using the Force to bolster his muscles, Sage moved in a dark blur as he chased Nejaa through the open window and out into the Coruscant night. Black silhouettes, where an arm should be, tangled and untangled themselves where he stood, his posture hunched, body bathed in the indigo glow of the street lamps. Sage's gut wound cried out in anguish. Badly burned and growing weaker by the nanosecond, Sage began to feel his consciousness waver. The bodies that Nejaa had parted formless shapes of dark and light with no discernible features.

He extended his human arm, with its mottled pink burns, and the Knight began to bend it towards himself, fingers curling inward. He reached out with a grappling pull of energy through the ether, attempting to use the Force to sweep Nejaa, his uncaught prey, off his feet and pull the Jedi back towards him.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Residential Areas.

No. No once again, between the mosquito and the wasp, the mosquito bit him again. Even as crimson energy spun over his face, casting it in the dramatic lighting of a stolen lightsaber and shifting from left to right hand, he was waging war against forces more powerful than himself. At least, more powerful than the self he had just cast aside and devoured for energy like a fire to a frail twig. Frenzied chaos erupted around him, the ripples in the water which he had just disturbed, Nejaa the epicenter. Fear motivated them all, pushed them all to scramble. To flail, lose control, to draw weapons, to fire there upon. Dread, anxiety, so much trembling cowardice in the crowds. Lips pushed tight, eyes like slits of red putrid flame. Tearing them apart without giving them attention beyond his peripherals.

The first blaster came more as an annoyance before it transformed into an awful invitation. Almost startled, Nejaa had more or less easily deflected it, swinging at it with a strike perhaps meant for someone else. Those lips furrowed. The next few shots bounced back, most of them colliding with their owners and leaving smoking holes deep in their faces. They steeped into a frown, then further. The slanted slide of a deflection mutated, whipping round and lashing out. Halving a passing nautolan female, then a human female, and a male. It was a snarl now. Even the ones without guns, even the youth, even just the ones caught behind the fleeing flock, coagulated bodies working against one another and slowing the whole ordeal. There was no particular style involved, no technique used to commit this slaughter. This was an unrefined tearing, a weightless blade somehow throwing the victims to the ground as if having been beaten with a hammer.

Nejaa's arm was raised, muscles flexed and grip as adamant as ever when he felt that invading disturbance. The mosquito. A human struggled under him, only a few years older and the mother in pieces only a few feet behind. The prey's noises sounded unnatural, as if gurgling- his jugular had long since been crushed by iron fingers. Telekinetic energy gripped Nejaa, wrapped his torso, cuffed his hands so as to stop him from slaying the suffering casualty. Soon to be a dangling, misshapen carcass. A someone who had spent his last minutes of life in hell, regardless of where he went afterward. Bare feet dragged on the metallic flooring, turning quickly to face Sage with a spitting venom. He sent a blast of the force in response, telekinetic like the Sith's, though instead of a pull, a concussive punch. Three drunken men jerked and spun as if being hit by a slug-thrower, Nejaa's counter attack smashing them hard enough to hear crunching ribs break. A brightly lit holo-ad shattered, as did the blast shield on a parked speeder, the gargantuan nature of his attack's pressure snapping the artificial world around him with each shaking and uneasy breath.

"Stop... stop, stop, STOP! STOPSTOP!"

Blade deactivated and his other hand wove forth, tossing his core and spraying a powerful semi-circle of fire in the opposite direction, frying the unfortunate few who remained still in close enough proximity, and in defense of Matsu. Enough to blacken the durasteel walkways, send long cracks snaking along shop windows and burn skin in seconds. She had to die. She had to die painfully.

[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Sage Bane]

The fallen angel shed his last vestiges of sainthood as he continued his killing spree through the Coruscant residential sector, a sight Sage normally would have enjoyed had the boy not been his brother’s holy grail. With gritted teeth, the Sith Knight stood firm as he focused on reeling the boy in, dragging him like a slippery eel on a line. Come to me.

As Sage used his Force energy to pull, Nejaa used his to push. The crazed Jedi sent out a telekinetic wave not only towards the Sith Knight but towards everyone and everything in his orbit. Synthglass blew out of windows and bones broke inside men. When Nejaa’s hurricane-force blast pummeled Sage square in the chest, he flew backwards, breaking his fall by twisting and rolling acrobatically, his amphistaves winding around him like armor. The Sith knight’s gut wound sang out with pain, accompanied by the music of coughing and sputtering. Flecks of blood erupted from his lips, and once again Sage’s world began to blur as his consciousness waned. This was not a fight he was going to win.

The shattering storm was unconcerned by Sage’s presence. The boy only had eyes for the final beast. More fire shot from Nejaa’s hands, creating a wall of flames so thick it eclipsed Matsu from her former pupil’s view. As Sage inhaled the darkness that clogged the air and heard the faint whispers of goading from Matsu, it dawned on Sage that perhaps the two of them had a past score to settle. He knew that he should defer to her to decide the Jedi’s fate for now. With wounded pride, Sage arose and began to slink away into the shadows. The echoes of the dark side helped him understand that it was not his battle anymore.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

The Jedi was gone, out of the window with his flames sparking his heels before Matsu could unsheathe her claws and pin him. Sage followed without hesitation – it didn’t seem in his nature to allow prey to escape easily.

She watched from the window, wrapping lithe mechanical fingers around the sill to lean and spectate the bloodsport quickly unfolding below. Excitement pounded behind her ears, swirled in her stomach to release as some misting sensation under the skin, pinpricks and goosebumps watching him devolve in the crowd. Panic quickly broke out among the masses and at first they fought, blaster fire lighting up shadows the neons couldn’t reach…but they quickly gave up, turning tail when it became obvious this was a creature entirely out of their league. The streets shone with the slick of gore Nejaa Niynx left in his wake.

The subtle pinging of her wristlink holocommunicator was barely heard over the screaming, even so high up, and she opened the channel with a distracted tap of a finger.
“Lady Xiangu, we’re receiving reports of massive disturbances in Sector 7, Lower Levels. Eyewitnesses report force-based activity and over fifty casualties within the first minute. Permission to deploy tactical troops and city-walkers?”
“No General – I’ll handle this one. Have crews prepared to clear the streets once it's done.”
“As you wish.”
“This will not be clean, General. Get your best to spin media coverage in the One Sith’s favor. Every death today will be on this animal’s head.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Closing the link, she rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath. It would not be an easy fight. She was under no illusion that the signature she felt was misleading. For all his confusion he was powerful - everything she'd read about him was true. Being in his presence only confirmed that. In truth, she relished the opportunity to sweep through streets she’d always considered hers with brute force in the pursuit of prey – a Queen defending her kingdom, or at least it would appear in the newsfeeds that would scroll endlessly in every public arena the next morning. The real danger was what made her crave it.

But first…

She closed her eyes, hands moving in the delicate patterns that had become second nature as she concentrated on all the fallen he’d left broken behind him.

T̠͖̳̤̩̭̓ͨ͐s̟̗͈̖̫̫̀̿̎̃ͨ̾͗a͉͖̣͎ͫ͂̈́ͣ̑ͪi̟͇͖̫͑ͤ͋w̹͇̪̟̫̿ͩ̓ͨ́̅̇ͭ̿i̮̩̤͉͗ͣ͊ͣ̆̒̾ṋ̖̰̯̟̥̊̒ͅọ̠̙̝̎̓̓̓ͫͦ̎k̯͎̟͖̞̳̩̈́͊ͦ͑̿̓͐ͤk̤̯̙̣͕̬̔ͣ̇a̪̘̬ͧ͑̆̓̉͐ ͉͈̖̭͙̦̬͙͇̐͛̄H̭̦̉̆̔ͪŏ̜͚̯̓̓̍̌̆̍ͣÿ͇̩ͨ͗̔a̱̳̜̹̬̣͕̣͒̏ͯͮ̅k͖͉̜̮̯̦̗̘̅ͅu̯̖̥͙͈̖͕͙̅ͪͪ̑̊t͈̯ͩ̃ͨ͆͆̉͛ͮ​

​

​

At first they shivered, instantly ceasing all mournful wailing on the part of their grieving families. (Did he move? He’s alive! Thank the Force he’s alive!) All hope quickly shattered, the dead heaved themselves from the walkways in any condition. Horrified screaming sang the confirmation of the fruit of her labor as those so cruelly torn from the land of the living shuffled in the direction of their murderer, leaving their sobbing mothers, brothers, sisters behind. The alien who’d lost a diagonal slice of her head stumbled along with the rest, reaching fingers up to hook along the crook of her skull and the flat cauliflower of her brain.

Matsu jumped from the window not to the blood-soaked streets filled with shades below, but to anything she could get purchase on on the façade of the skyscraper over, passing the sensation of farewell - for the moment - to Sage farther below. Unsheathing her claws just enough to pierce metal and create sturdy grip, she started scaling the face of the building and flying along next to her hoard, moving in the shadows of night and flame, only the amber glow of her eyes and the glow from the neons and flames lighting her demons' features. The dead group below were increasing their own speed as well as they regained control of their limbs, tearing through pedestrians to get to the only thing that mattered: the man that had killed them. When fire tore through the streets again they moved without the fear that held back the living, their skin tightening and cracking with burns they couldn’t feel as they ignored the flames.

You killed us Nejaa.​

You were supposed to be good Nejaa.​

You were supposed to bring balance Nejaa.​

You m u r d e r e d us.​

They were merely a distraction. Up on high, feet planted sturdily against the building’s side as she held on with one clawed hand, Matsu raised the other and pulled apart some of the piping for Coruscant’s water mains high above the roiling, flaming mobs heads. Accompanied by the catastrophic metallic groan of system failure, she ripped apart the infrastructure to send a torrent of freezing water down on the man bending the elements down below. She spared no opportunity, twisting her hand in an imitation of the direction the massive pipelines took as they shot towards her target. She didn’t want to kill him – not if she could turn him – but she had no problem shearing limbs or making holes. He was so powerful he made her blood boil, some magical current in her head sing. All that passion sunk to the dark side – what a beautiful sight it would be.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"] | [member="Sage Bane"]​

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Residential Areas.

One of anything was never enough. Even as the concussive force smashed against Sage Bane, crumpled him and flung him backwards, Nejaa was preparing his next attack. With the man's lightsaber in his other hand, Sage's defeat would be a bleak one. Whirlwinds of telekinetic energy whipped around the hand yet held back, ready to lash out once more, smash the bug he had already stepped on.

You killed us Nejaa.

He knew that voice. He'd heard it before, that voice which spoke not in reality but from within his own head. That searing pain of someone shattering your most vulnerable defenses. Literally challenging his most vital life source and turning it against itself. Nejaa's eyes widened, shrinking for a second and throwing whatever telekinetic energy he had collected in a random scattershot. The dead were moving. Even the mangled, even just the pieces. Hands dragging themselves, fingers trembling and trying. Decapitated little girls, carrying their own heads by the hair. A twi'lek who's head had been halved, hanging to each side as connected by a few strings of stretched skin. Head tails slit like fish before the grilling.

You were supposed to be good Nejaa.
You were supposed to bring balance Nejaa.
You m u r d e r e d us.

"Face ME-- STOP! STOP IT!"

Nejaa clawed first the air, then his own head, but in the end his focus was outward. On the woman, finding Matsu finally and watching her so that she might never slip his gaze again. Tracing the wild thing as it slung itself across building fronts to perch in still spots where shadow shrouded her. Thud, thud-thud, thud-thud, thud. They were beginning to move faster, the dead, her own dead. And they screamed, reaching for him, wanting everything that he was for their consuming. Their revenge, her agenda. He had seen this once before, fallen before its power, now would be different.

This... this was insulting. The red blade fell open, held low so that its tip was forced into the durasteel flooring below. Smoking and sizzling against the surface. The first to come close enough received its end, twirling and removing both limbs, the next her legs and a good chunk of her torso. But then there were three more, then five more, then fifteen, more, more, more. Nejaa was forced back, into retreat, a severed torso with one arm remaining tripping him up with its grip on his ankle. All the while that woman plotted and schemed, moved as she wished under the veil she had created. Another wave of the dead stumbled and fell before Nejaa realized they were making their way around him, surrounding him and slowly absorbing any exit route. His strikes began to come faster, harder, a whirr of a nervous grunt powering each offensive push.

CHuuUUnKKKkkkKk-- FLLOOooOOOoSShhhHHHhh!!

Wh-What was-- Oh my... oh my god. The entire sky was covered, given weight, a wall of water. There was a long, steady groan of metal and extreme pressures, deafened under the oceanic spray of Matsu's attack. Although she did anyway, there was little point to guiding the attack as its accuracy was non applicable. There was nowhere it wouldn't hit. Another hand grabbed him and he yanked away. It came so much faster than he could have anticipated, there was no time to think-- JUMP! Whatever held him fell with him, fell right over the edge of the metal architecture, into open air. Something was biting his leg, another thing clawed at his thigh and a third hovered behind just out of reach, screaming with noises it probably couldn't have made before.

When real, real reality struck Nejaa he almost choked, kicking and flailing until nothing was able to hold on. Air hissed and whizzed, the sound of his clothing rasped loud against the high pitched air. "NNnnn-!! NNnnn uuuuunnnnnn," gritted teeth barely allowed the desperate verbalization out, sheathing the lightsaber as quickly as possible and shoving it into place, hook through one of the belt loops. Below him was infinite space, Coruscant, a-buzz with neon lighting and--

Ccrrshshhhsslllgthssshh!!

A speeder's edge slapped one of the writhing bodies away from him, so close to Nejaa that he was throttled into a waving locomotive spin. Sounds and images played all around him, only able to locate them long enough to realize he'd lost it again. Above him, following him, was the water. Tons upon tons of it, wallowing down and stomping speeders from their lanes and into one another. Order was broken into chaos, frenzied drivers pressing the acceleration pedals as far as they'd go in order to escape that fate. Nothing made sense, it was all erratic. Another body was punched through by a ship's whirring edge, Nejaa this time far enough away to merely observe as the speeder responsible plunged down, blood and body parts covering the blast-shield, swerved, and crashed into another. Both just stopped, and fell.

It was always a combination of luck and skill which saved Nejaa. Evening out just in time to align himself with an incoming speeder, Nejaa's hands rose and grabbed, fingers slipping against metal until they found a proper notch. It slung him harshly, he could feel it in nearly every bone, the wind no more silent here, like this. Back hit the hull, and he spun to get a better hold. Whoever was inside clearly hadn't been alerted to his presence, the bulky mass of their speeder probably barely noticing a Jedi of his size. His feet dangled by heated thrusters which pushed just fast enough. Water, in glugging chunks wasting and bringing everything with it to crush anyone on the ground so far below. He couldn't think about it, couldn't see it, his mind was here. Against blue painted metal which could use a cleaning and a closed off surface. Pulling and tugging until he could get a better footing, Nejaa waited for the speeder to slow before raising. It, like quite a few others, rose higher in the air, curious and horrified citizens behind the wheel inspecting where the water came from. Standing as tall as he could, he scoured through the contents of ruined, crashed buildings. Speeders which lay in waste in and against the holo-signs, or punched through doors and windows. Against the noise of his surroundings, he was silent, but he screamed nevertheless, at the top of his lungs. As loud as he could, until tears of anger and everything impure pushed from his wild eyes.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHOW YOURSELFF!!!!"

Again he had lost sight of the demon...

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Sage Bane"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Warnings flashed across the holofeed above every news outlet and bank scroller around the city. Emergency alerts were sent to holocommunicators. Millions of people panicked as their water shut off, the power in fourteen sectors flickering as infrastructure crumbled elsewhere. Those at home and out gathered alike, stopping in front of giant display screens to watch the break-in news announcement interrupting every program on every station. The twilek news anchor spoke in a soothing tone, attempting to grasp a chokehold around the panic the fight further below was already causing. A small box of live footage played next to her, cameras swirling around the duelists catching every angle. The anchor’s voice echoed over every enormous plaza on that hemisphere of Coruscant’s surface, in every living room filled with people looking for an answer for the explosions and loss of water.

“All civilians are ordered to evacuate the I-33 Sector of the Palace District immediately. If you have business or plans to travel to the district, you are ordered to abandon them. The water has been shut off due to a break in the mains – it will be restored once repairs can be made. Alternatives for water procurement will be provided in due course.”​

Every civilian’s gaze was locked on the footage, the woman’s voice barely getting through.

“Massive death toll…sector-wide destruction…unnatural fires…reports of the dead rising…”​

_____________________________________________________​

She watched him fall, tracking him visually as far as she could follow before the water swallowed everything its path.

She snapped her head to the side at the sound of a news drone buzzing around her, capturing video of her hanging from the building feet planted and one arm clutching metal, eyes amber and wild as she stared in to it. She didn’t much care what it captured this day – all her actions were defensible as protecting the city from the unchecked reach of a Jedi she could paint as a madman. He’d done all the work for her slaughtering those innocents down below. And what a blow it would be to the Jedi to have video of one of their own – or at least one that used to belong to them – breaking every tenant they claimed to uphold.

Tracking his signature was easy enough. It was enormously powerful and it called to her like flies to a corpse. But spotting him among the chaos was something else entirely.

A voice came softly over her commlink.
“Shutting off waterflow to Sector 1-33 my lady.”
The flow of water that would have continued on and on unabated until the planet was drained halted after a few more moments, the air thick with mist as the breeze whipped the last of the spray through the streets and the air above. Fire had still managed to catch within buildings pocked with the holes created by crashed speeders, screaming and pleading echoing up along every façade from those that’d survived.


"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHOW YOURSELFF!!!!"


Ah, there! She heard it in her mind, not over the din of destruction.

She dropped, following the sound and the echoing of his signature. The sound of her traversing the buildings as if they were her own spider-web flew around the expanse of the chamber created by the architecture of the planet, a loud breaking of glass each time she shoved her arm through to create a handhold. It took her a minute or so but once she spotted him she pushed herself off the building and jumped through the air towards him. She landed on the personal ship with the kind of impact unexpected from someone her size. The entire thing bucked with the force of her landing, nearly tipping her off though she sprang her claws to puncture the roof of the craft and keep her footing. The passengers inside screamed as the claws nearly pierced right through the driver’s skull, saved only by the displacement of her landing. The cameras gathered around the two of them perched precariously on the ship, spinning around them to catch the Empress and the Stranger.

Once she’d gotten her feet underneath her she reached from her lightsaber, its snap-hiss announcing her intentions as she ran for him with a diagonal slash upwards from her left leg to her right shoulder.

This was, of course, assuming her landing hadn’t displaced him with a see-saw ricochet that sent him flying.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]​

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Speeder Lanes;
[member="Matsu Xiangu"];
[member="Sage Bane"].

Her power came in an unconventional method and dosage. His lesson to be learned, always always be careful of that which you wish. Like an animal, she slung herself across durasteel framework, smashing through weak walls like they were nothing. Even from where he was, Nejaa could see the sickly-glowing gold of the sith's eyes, a color like bile. So profuse an example of the dark side, crushing and re-clawing at flimsy glass in her passage, rabid hungry for something of a closer proximity. Something she could sink her claws into. Twirling at the wrist, a circlet of flame bordered elegant fingers before he stomped hard and shouted. One, two, seven, fifteen rapid fire shells of fire blast flared toward the woman. Nejaa, lit in a whirling dance of acrobatics, interrupted only by the gradual stumble of his speeder-mount's recognition of the flames. Its drivers swerving forward, then sideways- more of the building erupted into a chaotic state of dismantled debris, fire and explosion tracing Matsu's path but never fast enough to incinerate the demon.

Like a bat, or something out of hell, she shot forward. A metal slug's trajectory, open armed like a pouncing cat its teeth bared to sink bone into beck. CcnNNnckk--!! Defense fell, and with it the Jedi himself, stumbling forward then knocked clean off his feet by Matsu's landing. Metal groaned, a now dented cockpit full of almost-dead and obviously distressed drivers. Their pleas to some god which would never save them could be heard even above the whir of the sith's blade against his own. Her form was perfect, though without much flare of originality, and yet he was barely able to deflect it or push it aside in a secondary tap. Even so, she pushed through him, tearing and burning a gashed line up and over his chest. Bisecting the skin of his left pectoral and shoulder- he had managed to save his endangered collar bone, though only at the cost of opening himself up for attack in so many other areas. "Nnggk," smoke and burnt skin filled his nostrils, one arm sagging back with that side of his body. He couldn't manage it, not another strike, not with an agile speed like that. Not after being tossed aside, up and then back down- which is why it almost came as a relief when the speeder's thrusters fired again, pushing it forward to lurch into an oncoming stream of daring transports. Some very much larger than itself, and without the option of short-notice-braking. Nejaa's naked feet trembled, ankles and knees buckling in on each other, unable to keep up with the insecure terrain like his opponent.

He didn't fight it.
He fell.

"Mmmnnwha-- gauhhaa"

Right off the back end, straight into the coned flares of the speeder's ion drives. Weapons away and the concentrated grumble of a terrified hum nearly screamed from tightly pressed lips, he closed himself inward, leveled, and released. Arms flew wide, torso spinning to steal the flames of the thruster's flare, crushing the engines, and sending what he had taken back in one absorbed, empowered blast. Whether or not Matsu was there, the speeder's luxury-based hull would weep under blasting shards and flame's fire. Nothing came to his aid in such haste this time, most traffic having long since cleared out other than the newly forming lining along the lower levels; readily visible, though still far away.

"Nnnnuu... NNnnNnnn-- Nunono--"

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

He disappeared, their footing shooting out from underneath them and sending the Jedi away from her in a carpet-pull imitation of some joke that might have been funny in another situation. But she wasn’t laughing. She hadn’t wanted to hurt something this badly in years, to crack something at the foundations until it was utterly unrecognizable. Everyone assumed the Sith evil for killing, but there was nothing to murder. You did it once and it was over, exciting only so long as the last breath echoed in one’s ears. But corruption? Long, slow, agonizing change? The Sith leeched that which grew from the light and turned it in to something that knew nothing but suffering…for fun. And she so badly wanted to see this powerful boy suffer.

She wasn’t thrown from the ship entirely by its wild bucking, but she wasn’t able to stay standing. Dropping to her knees, she sprang her claws and thrusted them through the ship’s ceiling, holding on as it shot away. She thought to look over the side of the ship, track her quarry’s fall, but instead the entire luxury cruiser exploded underneath her as his f i r e erupted. There was no point in holding on and she retracted her claws, her entire body slipping with unexpected speed back towards the destroyed thrusters. Fire clawed around her body and she let out a scream – an unearthly sound, some stellar anomaly ripping apart – as it melted one side of her bodysuit against her ribs, skin shrinking and bursting before she managed to spring free and start her free fall.

Agony shot over her entire body, white-hot and unrelenting and made worse by the wind whipping against the open, ghastly sore over her left ribcage. (Suffering is the path to perfection. Pain will make me perfect.) She followed his powerful signature down, down, down – the hint of panic, the search for a surface – and then she spotted him, tumbling through the complete lack of traffic as newscasts begged the city’s citizens to leave the Empress to her work.

Her features twisted high and inhuman with rage (but quiet mind…quiet mind…never lose control, control is power) she reached out and threaded the agony of her wound through the Force to increase her telekinetic control. She attempted to grab hold of him through the Force, wrenching him in her grip and throwing his body up and up and up towards the skyline in to any of the buildings high, high above.

When she let go of her she reversed her grip – pulling instead of pulling – and jettisoning her own body in the direction she’d hopefully thrown him.

She crashed through a high-rise’s windows, the sound of glass shattering accompanied by its nearly blinding glitter as she rolled once and sprang to her feet. Her breath escaped her in low whispers, the only hint of what he’d done to her. (Hnnnggh….Hnnngghh….) She was a shark, a spider, a panther – a thousand predators that did not stop once they’d caught a scent or felt a tremor, that cared nothing for something so superficial as a wound. She craved him.

“Nejaa…” she called softly, walking quietly through the hastily vacated building – or almost, one employee who hadn’t gotten out fast enough throwing himself behind a desk when he saw her approaching. The old Jedi Temple's remains glittered a block or so over, towering in all its wasted glory as a monument to failure, unmissable, a reminder. “Nejaa…you’ve already gone too far. You’re lost. You can’t turn back.”

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]​

 

[Darth Caedes]

Core Worlds;
Coruscant;
Speeder Lanes;
[member="Matsu Xiangu"].

The Sith were ancient creatures, entities of darkness. And not just the red skinned species, but their immortal practice. Bogan, the dark side in origin, the ever consuming jaw of evolutionary chaos. The single entity powerful enough to challenge everything that the universe was, and the one strength mighty enough to pummel light itself. A closeness to the dark side, and en evolved relationship with it could unlock powers even Nejaa knew nothing about, something gained only at the cost of one's soul. An odd paradox of satisfying one's most radical desires while ordering that they must first endure their most awful suffering. It was a connection so far from his reach, nothing but rumors and feared legend. And this woman wielded it with the arcane skill of those in lore. Her motions were nothing but economic, and she wore pain like protective armor. A stimulant which gave her power, fed her hunger, intoxicated her. Nejaa's arm bent first, fleshy fingers of an invisible and incorporeal telekinetic crush. His air born forced in on itself like a spider in submission. Even over the motor storm of Coruscant under attack, Matsu's growling shriek through the force blinded him with white hot pain. He was weightless to her as the force itself was her weapon.

Nejaa's efforts to keep up were admirable, but in the end little more than petty. A desperate pleading burst of grunts and yelps as she yanked him high into the air. At wildly random intervals, flaming blasts launched into the sides of high rises and lit orange with explosion, thrown from the punch of closed fists. None of them would ever really endanger Matsu, her berserker-swift movements well beyond such erratic measures. Just as he prepared another shotgun burst Nejaa's body contorted and twirled, seconds before being thrown through a building's exoskeleton. In that second he threw his attack, a short range eruption of telekinetic enhanced pyro-manipulation. Glass and frame alike shattered before him, drowned out by his blood curdling scream of regret, and he hit the back wall hard. The back wall, one large display screen which had only seconds ago been flashing an ad, cracked and crinkled around him, the image becoming black and grainy. Nejaa's body slumped and fell hard to the ground, bouncing off of an desk of some nature and spilling two large piles of flimsi over him. Like drunken butterflies, the paper jerked and swayed until sliding against a clean metal floor. Glass from the floor dug into his sides slicing raw, tender skin.

Nejaa howled again. Two other display screens and a few stationary signs announced the ruined high rise as the property of Galactic Talent, an obviously high budget and well to do talent agency. Before, it would have been considered prime time real estate, surrounded in massive panels of glass and elegant framing. Now, when Matsu flew forth and into the grave she had so picked for her opponent, it was nothing more than a casualty of war. Sparks and shards of debris, and the giant's stamp of kinetic energy throwing Nejaa back again and into the desk's edge. He screamed again, forced to roll and slide over the glass, driving it further into blistering wounds. His eyes widened, a strained hissing of air through his lips as he tried to stare through dizziness and back into reality.

“Nejaa… Nejaa…you’ve already gone too far. You’re lost. You can’t turn back.”

He had no hope of answering back. At their time in temples, Jedi padawans learned many things. They learned how to carve their bodies into alignment, how to call on the force, to fight like fully fledged warriors. Taught how to elongate their stamina, taught to combat fatigue, to harden themselves against damage and shield themselves with the force. Most, but Nejaa had never grasped the concept nor devoted the time to learning. The dark side told stories of power, while the Jedi learned how to best protect themselves it. He now wished he had mastered such abilities, his flickering efforts little more than fleeting attempts, ineffective at best. Nejaa's weapon, Sage's lightsaber, had fallen from his grasp and a few yards from him. Matsu was burnt, beaten from the battle which bore down upon them both.

"You know nothing of me... Sith...!"

A thin tendril of the force tugged the lightsaber's hilt in a slow dance across the floor and back into Nejaa's bleeding palm. But he couldn't yet stand, in fact it was all he could do just to get to his knees. Concave and dipped inward, as if he were preparing to be sick. The hilt, blade unactivated, pressed into his lap, both hands acting as support beams for his cumbersome mass. Turquoise-iridescent blood dripped from his bottom lip and down from his forehead, into his right eye which now hung in mid suspension, stinging. Weakly, Nejaa lit the lightsaber and held it up before him, using his other arm to guide him in his return to two legs. Flimsi wrinkled as he rose, supported by a one-arm-lean against the desk which had braced his fall before. His scowl was evident, stretched and nasty, pointing victorious glares at Matsu's apparent injuries. Spitting viscous blue syrup from his mouth he regarded the Lord before him and spat.

"... Do you hurt?"