To Good Health, and New Friends.

[Kasa Shi]

[ Bastion, Imperial Palace: Meditation Chamber. ]

Kasa sat on her knees with her hands neatly folded and centered. Her form shrouded in a shadow - as dark as ink, like a stain that would never be cleansed from the fabric of existence. ​

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Something akin to a voice permeated her entire being, her skin vibrating and jolting alive with intense energy as static danced around her fingertips. She called the Dark Side to her body in an attempt to heal the damage done by a prion disease, feeling immense and sharp pain during this process. Through this, she gained strength and an even greater tolerance for what hardships awaited her. No anxiety, no fear.​

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Only victory, only survival.​

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There was no giving up. If Kasa could not overcome her illness through sheer will alone, then there was no point in living. ​

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Fight, or die.​

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~​

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Opening her eyes, Kasa exhaled and stood. The world around her was, at the moment, stable. She now had a better grasp on cognitive function and control over her urges, and that was enough to be content for the time being. But had something inside of Kasa not begged for some kind of help, then she would have fully succumbed to the disease this time. ​

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And she didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. It gets worse every time. ​

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This did nothing for her. It never helped.​

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Kasa turned and walked out of the meditation chamber, choosing to not feel once again because it was easier to disregard herself as a person in order to gain a greater connection to the Force. Bringing death had begun to take its toll, hardening her into a maleficent creature - eater of life and the Force itself. ​

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This existence was a lonesome one.​

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But it was the only one she ever knew. ​

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Kasa found herself standing against sunlight in contrast, feeling the warmth of it as her eyes became heavy with tears and a deep depression. She realized what she'd become, and how much worth and value she placed in power above all else. Leaning into a safety railing, the Atrisian became lost in deep thought.​

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What if this is how she died?​

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Was she even a person anymore?​

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[member="Kyrinov"]

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[Kyrinov]

][ Bastion ][

It seemed that this never got old. He had been at this little hobby of his for about three years now. The rush was still there, that minute pang of sheer and absolute pleasure which washed over his alabaster, lithe form in what felt like a tidal wave.

The joy he received from the small observations he made in order to complete the main assignment he’d set out to do from the very beginning. A shadow of a smirk taunted and escaped the influence of the muscles at the corner of his thin lips. It was those same small tasks that first called him to his personal cause when he was yet an Acolyte.

The man had been drawn to a greater cause, a greater hope that encompassed a vision as old as time itself.

He decided then that he would learn.

He would branch out and become instrumental and irreplaceable.

He would never again know abandonment.

Even now, while two of his slender fingers tilted the kneeling woman’s chin up to meet his own steel grey gaze, he was fulfilling his own lot in life. They were quite a beautiful sight, those amber eyes that stared widely back at him. Those special moonstones held fear, terror, and horror within the fine lines that could be seen in the revealing red light of the chamber. They also held a sliver of silent resentment and a burning passion that threatened to boil over. For a moment, his thumb simply rested on her jaw. But, it dropped and pressed into the hollow of her neck, depriving her of the oxygen she needed to survive.

Simultaneously, he pushed into her mind, calling forth image from the girl’s childhood. Beatings, an older female shouting unfathomable curses and humiliations at a younger version of this “Sith” before him. There were glimpses of family members as they were cut down before her eyes while she could not even hide her face to spare herself the image of their pale, empty corpses.

Typical of the wretches he often came across.

Either way, he twisted those memories, those primal emotions, and stood back. He looked on as she writhed against the bonds that held her fast in her current position. She screamed in agony as her mind tore her apart, she shook as her mind struggled to hold itself together. He could hardly hear the jolt of the Necros-class corvette as it landed in the hangar of the Imperial Palace. Her fingers scratched at her face and dug into skin over and over and over until nail broke fragile patches and drew crimson blood that pooled and ran down her delicate face.

And then, she broke and fell into madness.

He smirked and left the room, brushing past crew members that came to end her suffering and dispose of her body. He walked through the halls and down the ramp that placed him directly in front of a walkway.

Kyrinov strode with a hushed authority about him, footfall echoing in a thunderous pattern as heel and toe met metal floors. Within moments, he reached the outside atmosphere of Bastion. He paused and wiped a drop of blood that was on the side of his index finger, dragging it along a short length of the metal railing.

[member="Kasa Shi"]​

 

[Kasa Shi]

Something stirred in the distance, a new arrival upon the Imperial capital - but this one felt different. A twisting sort of decadence that most Sith did not harbor, and yet, this presence crushed any previous experiences that Kasa felt into pathetic dust. Kasa pulled her mind away from the immediate surge of the Force, instead shifting her posture to be more readied and formal. Turning her head away, she looked over the marvel that was Bastion's architecture. ​

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Quite the spectacle, really. Arching towers and lavish design, a testament to the greatness of the Sith and its Empire. For all their victories and what Kasa had personally gained in knowledge, she achieved a confidence that most Jedi would not be able to shatter. For what fear did she need when she could simply listen to the triumphs of her peers? All around her, the crushing oppression of The Sith Empire staking it claims and ripping away the undeserved freedoms of the lowly and fragile.​

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Kasa sighed in half pleasure, the other thoughts in her brain became scattered and only contained nuances as compared to a full, critical thought. She shook her head to clear the cognitive fog, her attention coming full circle towards the new arrival.​

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As he made his way towards her direction, the Atrisian was reassured in her surprise of just what she felt in the Force. What deed he committed before ever stepping foot upon Bastion.​

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A grin spread wide from ear to ear beneath Kasa's helmet. Her eyes beginning to radiate a faint glow of deep golden amber. ​

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She was intrigued, to say the least.​

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[member="Kyrinov"]

 

[Kyrinov]

His eyes ran over the rapidly drying streak of dark red fluid as it became accustomed to its new, colder home. It transferred from his slim finger to the round rail effortlessly, some of the water content evaporating once his finger was out of the way causing the blemishing mark to shrink in size.

But then, his piercing gaze snaked their path up from the metal to a figure donned in heavy armor just on the other side of the walkway he now stood on. He decided to reach out slightly, attempting to get a feel for who this person might be, to assess the power they might currently possess.

It was almost second nature, to reach out with the Force. It provided him with enough information for him to piece together a rough profile of the person under his observation. This person was powerful in the Force. They were a consumer, hungry and yet full to the brim. This particular Dark minded being was riveting. They seemed to be a little duality of their own. His lips curled again into a slight toothy grin but it soon faded.

For a moment, as he looked on at this new being, he saw the slightest shift in stance. They had either noticed his presence or they were attempting to prepare for something. Perhaps the answer was both that he could conceive.

He noted his surroundings. The design of the majority of the buildings that towered above the two individuals, an offshoot reminder of how small they were in the grand scheme of this conflict between Light and Dark. He had to admit, this Imperium had fascinating architecture and perhaps equally intriguing membership.

Kyrinov could find that out soon enough as he strode towards the armored individual with in the same manner with which he left his ship in. His steps were slow yet deliberate, thoughtful even. It would appear that each time heel struck durasteel in a harsh rebuke, the toe was hesitant to continue its straight path.

Before long, he stood about eight feet from the figure. He simply inclined his head in a form of greeting, he decided not to break the silence just yet.

He would wait a while longer. Patience is a virtue after all.

He allowed his Force presence to ooze from his body freely, he saw no reason to mask what he was here. Yet, there was still a decent portion of restraint on what he presented to others at all times and, especially, to the person next to him.

[member="Kasa Shi"]​

 

[Kasa Shi]

An intense wave of heat washed over Kasa's body as the man drew closer, she could feel the death still lingering just on his fingertips. His spirit reeked of murder, yet it was this quality that intrigued her more than anything. Another brief twitch of a weak smile came over Kasa's lips as she returned the same sort of common gesture. ​

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Her shadowy figure appeared to almost part open itself, revealing a slender yet gloved hand that extended its index finger into the direction of the stranger. "The fear... the anger..."​

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Her hand slowly fell back to her side underneath the shadow of a cloak she wore.​

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"You have relinquished a life of its need for the material..."​

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A deep, primal sense of hunger set in, tearing at the Atrisian's insides. Kasa looked the man up and down for a brief moment before deciding that it probably wasn't wise to initiate violence, at least not here at the Imperial Palace. Falling silent, Kasa did her best to conceal the pain and famine she felt almost every day. Nothing was enough to sate it, no being had ever given the proper satisfaction or sustenance. ​

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Was this hunger eternal? When would it end...​

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But as for the new face, there was something extremely perplexing about him. His aura and the fact that she simply couldn't dig deeper into his mind.​

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She had to know more.​

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[member="Kyrinov"]

 

[Kyrinov]

He glanced at the figure’s index finger as it was extended toward him in what felt like an accusation. He could hear the somewhat feminine voice speak in Basic in an accent he could not place. To makes matters better, her voice was distorted slightly by her helmet. She spoke of fear and anger. Did the now dead Sith still cling to him so eagerly?

Fear.

Perhaps she was commenting on the fear in the girl’s eyes a mere minute before he ravaged her mind and sent her reeling into madness. Or, maybe, just maybe, she was referring to his fear of failing to uphold the personal mission which he set himself when he was just an Acolyte, before he was ever an Apprentice or even considered Sith. The one chain that remained shackled to his ankle that he could never seem to break, no matter how he attempted or what weapon he used in its disposal.

Anger.

Again, the anger and hate that shone in the woman’s glowing amber eyes burned itself into his mind. On the other side of that barrier, reflected within her watering eyes, was him. A man seething with anger and resentment and disgust towards so called Sith like the woman that once knelt in front of him.

Many possibilities to sort through. Perhaps they were both correct, or, perhaps, neither of them were.

He nodded as the woman donned in armor lowered her arm and spoke of the death he’d dealt out shortly before exiting his ship. She was correct, in a way. He had ripped the human Sith Knight of her material, worldly possessions. He robbed her of her strength, of what little power she truly held within her very being. Her life had been extinguished, joining in the hum of Force sensitive beings who could not become Spirits, those not powerful enough to will their existence to continue in some fashion or another.

Kyrinov looked at the woman in front of him and nodded once more. This time, however, he spoke two simple words. His smooth, baritone voice echoing amongst the buildings on either side of them though his voice was only projected loud enough for the words to reach her ears alone.

“I have.”

A solitary thought occurred to him. Why wasn’t she in the Academy?

“Why are you here, Acolyte?” he inquired, hoping she would present him with a satisfactory answer.

[member="Kasa Shi"]​

 

[Kasa Shi]

The Atrisian found amusement in the man's answer, as it only confirmed what she could sense. The stench of death does not simply disappear - it lingers and attaches itself to the soul. A stink that can never be washed away or redeemed, but a marker for those of murderous desire. Kasa was also branded by the same fault.​

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Killing came easy, though. No man or woman mattered, only that Kasa could feed herself and feel some victory over the gluttony that was her desire to rob others of their life essence. ​

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But then came the query of who she actually was as a person. Deep down, something must have existed that extended past the deranged persona whom craved flesh and blood, always dreaming of a twisting nexus that corrupted lands and planets afar. The Force spoke to her, and she obeyed its will with reckless abandon. ​

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"I am under the tutelage of none..."​

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A firm but blunt truth, and a deeper insight into Kasa's character. Her mental instability making her unbearable, impatient and unwilling to bend to authority to further herself properly; as having led an informal, unstructured lifestyle of broken and warped fabrications of reality. She was truly and entirely her own brand of chaos. ​

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Horrible, wild, all-devouring. ​

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A cancer in the Force.​

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[member="Kyrinov"]

 

[Kyrinov]

Under the tutelage of none.

An interesting statement. Yet, it was somewhat satisfying to hear her speak in that manner. Simultaneously, it was irritating and unbecoming of an Acolyte seeking to become Sith.

His hope was that, despite her initial unwillingness, someone would break her down and rebuild her, mold her into the ideal Sith that she has the capability to become. Perhaps he would be that person, perhaps it would be a being with more knowledge and experience than he. Whatever the case may be, she would be broken and shattered at one time or other. Whether she is pieced together properly remains to be seen.

His eyes locked on to the narrow eye slits in her helmet. "Unfortunately, that doesn't answer my question, dear."

He peered into the darkness that lay on the other side of that physical mask she wore. "Now, why are you under the tutelage of none? Is it the lack of Masters here or is it your own unwilling, independent nature?"

[member="Kasa Shi"]​