Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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To Kill or Not To Kill...{Open; Omega}

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Was it the voice?
No, it was the entity. It was just over his shoulder, it's jaw gaping wide open with it's reaching tongue extending far past the devaronian's shoulder and before the right of his face. It was always there; pleading with him to commit more monstrosities. In the mind of Silus, it was the manifestation of the dark side beckoning him further into the embrace of moral dissolution. On the contrary, Silus could never afford the standards of moralities society as a whole embraced.
It was hot. Silus wasn't use to the sort of heat that was unrelenting. In fact, even after covering his vulnerable dome with a hood, the winds protested with a gust that sent a mixture of heat and sand into his face--pelting against his rough skin. He hissed lowly, and his head lowered--those around him exchanging looks though they kept their own pace. Yes, this was a nice place. It was Tatooine, home of the scoundrels and outcasts. Silus was one of those, yet he had more to offer than the average low-life.
It wasn't long after leaving the port that he found a cantina. In a place like this, cantinas were a dime a dozen, and just to the exterior of the port was the first place one could be found. As he entered, his extremities retracted within the refuge of his robe, hiding the hands which were covered in blood. The relevance of this move was in question, as the crusted blood simply wasn't noticeable upon his already red skin.
With that said, he moved in, piercing yellow eyes projecting from the shadows contained within the opening of his robe. He took a seat, his hands shaking as the entity moved in unison to him, positioned behind him just as detailed before.
Kill..
"Whee~, again?"
Soon they would find the bodies, or what was left of them.
 
Those in the catina could feel it.
Maleus could feel it.
A presence.
Looks of terror were exchanged in theatrical unison. Glasses were held in trembling hands, men reached for their holstered firearms.
'An abomination' The thoughts of many.
Maleus opened the bar door having sensed the disturbance with his hands locked around the hilt of his saber. And then... A smile. He would say nothing, he would submit to the conformity of the bars ambiance. His form lowered over a bar stool, his metallic hand casually drumming the withered desk he sat over with an air on indifference. The encapsulating cloak adorned over his body hid his vestigial horns from view. He was just another patron, only he wasn't.

[member="Silus The Psycho"]
 
As the voice was continually urging him into homicidal acts, Silus' attention could not help but be beckoned by the presence manifesting first within the force. It was familiar, and Silus for a moment came to the conclusion that his master had finally returned from the dead to serve vengeance to Silus. If he had hair, it would be standing at the nape of his neck.
Alas, as it drew closer and eventually the bar door swung open and an eclipsed entity hidden by the shadows contrasted against the sun behind him--Silus' eyes widened, the piercing yellow pupils taking on a dumbfounded expression for a moment. Once the door closed, and the humanoid which opened it stepped within, he noticed it was an Zabrak. Nevertheless, it was the first entity to give off this aura since his previous master.
He's nothing like you.
"He's like him though, huh?" He patted his robed stomach and bared his canines as he chortled towards the Zabrak.
 
Omega strolled through the desert of Tatooine, sand whipping in his face. He didn't care. As he walked to the cantina, he had one thought on his mind. Death. It had been too long since he had killed someone, perhaps six days. Carrying a briefcase full of thermal detonators on timers, he strolled into the bar. He brushed his hair back before setting the briefcase down at the bar counter. Omega wouldn't seem like a force user, at least to other force users. This is because of the yammosk brain tissue implanted in him. He could sense two powerful dark side energies. This couldn't be good. Randomly, he broke out into laughter, unable to control himself. "Hahhahahah, death is sweet, isn't it?" He asked with a mad grin. People were about to die....
 
High pitched laughter caused Maleus's ears to ring. The sinister cackle Omeaga produced easily reached into the deepest recesses of the Catina. His neck pivoted towards the overt display of insanity emanating from the mad-man.
"It seems the heat has driven another insane.... Good..." Then turning his attention to the Devaronian. Deep wrinkles took possession of it's visage, accentuating canines casting a despotic glare.​

Pupils that were dilated yet still seeming devoid of life. Without life, without purpose. Simply existing. Though..He could be wrong... That wouldn't have been a first.
"Greetings."
His voice was soft, yet resolute.
It was a welcoming that demanded an answer.
[member="Silus The Psycho"]
[member="Omega"]
 
"I'm going to kill him,"
No..he has something to offer y--"
It's existence dissolved. Even the hot breath that the devaronian felt upon his neck at all times gave way to the cold air that filtered through the room via air conditioning units. Much like Maleus, Silus' attention was beckoned by the laughter that was encumbered with the same amount of derangment as him. Upon percieving the visage, his eyes grew wider. It was none other than his follower--his companion. The voice which echoed within his mind had ceased through he was certain that this man was the reason why.
He stood up, casting his robe from him. He had a lightsaber angled forward, it's conduit for the plasma extension aimed toward his front but in an obviously fixed position. Instead of grabbing that though, he aimed to retrieve a vibro-knife that was suspended on the other side of his waist upon the belt which he garnished. At that point, he spoke aloud toward the one who had entered.
"What does he have to offer me?!" Silus exclaimed to Omega(dunno your name), as though he would know. At this point, Silus equated the entity to the reincarnation of his demon. He pointed the knife at Maleus, awaiting a response to kill him. Just then, things got a little more serious.
The door blasted open, a hefty sized human stumbling in behind the now ajar door. At his rear, around five more men were following in behind him. They scanned the room, though their attention stopped once they saw Silus.
"Cease the Devaronian!" He ordered, at which point six blasters were then aimed at the Devaronian. Silus, with his opposite hand, flicked it forward toward them just as the man spoke, sending one of the many tables that were in the room flying towards the group. The blaster fire ignited, tearing apart the table, though their lack of sight due to the table lead the majority of the blaster bolts astray, though the one that did remain on it's path toward Silus was re-directed as red plasma swiftly intercepted it. The extension of energy was accompanied by a ironically calm hum.
They want to kill me...
His canines were revealed again, and his lips parted as his jaw dropped to it's full extent. A breath was taken in just before he let out an enormous sound. It projected before him, though it seemed to encumber both the exterior and interior of anyone that could not withstand the might of the darkside. The majority of the cantina would drop to their feet, as for who would remain, that would be established quite soon.
[I'm not feeling the post but here it is.] [member="Omega"] [member="Maleus"]
 
Flashes of light were exchanged as Silus's pursuers squeezed off a few rounds. The crimson bolts slammed into nearby desks reducing them to splinters. Bar patrons ducked behind whatever they could to avoid the cross-fire. Maleus's own hand extended out waist level allowing his hilt to fly into his grasp.

Without so much as another word he thumbed the switch mechanism. *Zoom* The blade came to life, the unmistakable color of crimson filled the room.
He took it a step further with his aura was running amok. Those attuned to themselves and their environment would be able to tell where the dark conduit lay.

His own grip tightening around the base of his hilt which he now dragged upwards in the attempt to attain an audience.
"Back away, now."
His demonic gaze suspended over the instigators of this conflict.
"Or..."
He awaited a response.
Suddenly his ears rang, it felt like he had been slapped with numerous explosions. Blood slowly trickled down the edges of his ears and ran down his neck. His eyes craned towards the pained mad-man.

<He reminds me of....>
[member="Omega"]
[member="Silus The Psycho"]
 
Those who spread death and destruction could sit there and drone about it all day. But Preliat had walked the walk. And so, he was waiting in the back of the bar, his crushgaunt adorned hands wrapped around a beer, and his helmet firmly planted on his head.

In the room, he was the ultimate killer. And the Sith in the room had a right to be fearful and mindful of him, especially since he was one of the ones who was directly responsible for the destruction of both the Sith Empire, and The New Order. He was just sitting. And waiting.

Like a wolf.

He saw the scream coming. He'd seen it in many Dar'jetii before. All he did, was move slightly to the right. A Sith lord- he might have turned the audio off. But a man with an iron will and an immunity to force-based mental tricks, and not being cursed with the usage of the force, the scream had little effect on him. He blinked and placed his Verpine pistol on the table, holding his shattered beer. He wiped glass shards and beer from his forearm armor.

"What a fool."
 
Those that were in pursuit of Silus Aran were dead, and fortunately for him, he didn't dispatch the force-user he was intrigued with. He wore a grin as he took a step forward, though he turned to look at those around him. Most were on the ground, either dead or pretty close to it. The only one that was remained unaffected, oddly enough, was a man in the back that had his pistol already out. It was interesting that he could tank such a power, though it wasn't something Silus looked into as the moment was fleeting.

"You have a ship?" He asked, his eyes remaining on the man at the table. It vexed him, to say the least. Despite his piercing, amber hues being trained on the [member="Preliat Mantis"]--he was instead speaking to @Maleus. Simultaneous to him speaking, his eyes switched from the mandalorian and onto [member="Omega"] though Preliat remained within his preriphial as he was only ten or so feet away from him. He nodded for Maleus to follow him, as the two were now associated with one another in this crime, and he reached onto his belt and pulled out a thermal detonator.

He tossed it toward the both of them, the thermal detonator bouncing off a few tables but landing somewhere along the middle of the two. Unbeknownst to Silus Aran, Omega was holding a briefcase full of thermal detonators as stated in his post. Having said that, in the second or so it took for the devaronian's thermal to detonate, the rest in the brief would as well due to the first one. This would cause a massive explosion which would encompass the entirety of the cantina and make escape [member="Preliat Mantis"] near impossible. On the other hand, being that both of the force-users were heading out the door, they would be able to make it out just in time to avoid taking any real damage from it.
 
5 to 6 meters. Standard radius of an explosion for a thermal detonator. For the Mandalorian, he had plenty of experience being fast. Mandalorians were trained to outperform Sith and Jedi in Beskar'gam- so needless to say, he was quick as he grabbed his pistol, grabbed the table, and hugged his body against it, and activated the jetpack on his back. He landed with the table against the wall first, and the collection of thermal detonators went off in the suitcase, but they ultimately did nothing as they did not cause the chemical reaction that the thermal detonators relied on. He stood up, watching the energy from the grenade dissipate. He stood, and walked out the door that the dark jedi padawan and the oddly-colored haired man went.

He grabbed his verpine pistol on the way out, blinking. He watched them start to run out.

"I've killed Sith in droves. I helped destroy the army that protected the Sith capital- and then destroyed the throne room of the Sith. I watched the throne splinter, as we blew it to pieces. I've met plenty of cowards, especially during the Dark Harvest...but..."He waved the Verpine pistol between them, rolling his neck, making a sickening popping sound."You all are the lowliest of cowards."
 
<This one talks too much.> It was obvious this Mandalorian was looking for a fight. His words were like acid, collectively sliding into his psyche and igniting his rage. Then a thought occurred.

To do battle here would be unwise. There was truth to this man's words. The Sith were being taken apart, at least from the division he was aligned with. It's disintegration left him in a state of where he would rely on his own intuition, his own strength.

This independence was a blessing.
This independence was a curse.

Maleus's free hand opened, a vast section of the tiled concrete was ripped out of the ground. And then forcibly dispatched towards the Mandalorian. It was to serve as a distraction.

One that he knew that would not be enough should this hunter continue his pursuit.
<How ironic... The playing field has been...>
He shifted his head towards the newly founded 'comrade, and then towards his enemy.
<Changed.>
He would take this time of course to flee, or attempt to. Along with his comrade.
[member="Silus The Psycho"]
[member="Omega"]
[member="Preliat Mantis"]
 

EvolutionMe

The Wondering Zabrak
Dovian allowed a gentle smile of pure malevolence to flood the base of his red, blood soaked lips. His eyes followed the scene quickly as he slowly made his appearance. His dark, yellow eyes slowly examined the area around his red, corrupted body. Once again, [member="Maleus"] was in a spot of trouble

His body quickly rushed forwards as his hand quickly reached down into the base of his pockets, allowing his black, tainted hands to secure a steady grip upon the hilt of his saber in case he needed to draw it out.

One, two, three. Dovian paused as he allowed his feet to adjust their pace and swoop alongside Maleus.

His dark, brown hood covered the majority of his face however, Maleus would have been able to recognise his true identity.

With that being said, Dovian allowed his voice to pierce the air, allowing the atmosphere to shift, giving way to a dark, cold chill. "What the hell is going on?" Dovian asked curiously by Maleus' side.
 
[member="Dovian"] brought little to Preliat's mind. He had faced worse horrors- and defeated them. He quipped, firing a Verpine round between the two Zabrak Sith."No Sith leaves my sight unharmed or unharmed."He said, ducking under the slab of concrete. It had to be small, due to the thermal detonators actual lack of explosive power. His hand arced, removing the Beskad from it's sheath, and he went to charge towards [member="Maleus"], dragging his blade behind him on the sand. It was heavy, and it was righteous. He also removed the Beskad tomahawk placed on the small of his back. It was still slightly hot from the jet exhaust, but the Beskar never wavered in the face of a small flame.

"Death to Sith."He said, charging towards the two Sith, both weapons in hand.
 

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