Private Tsawakatsis | Embodiment of Sith

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
The Great Ziggurat | Thule
Darth Mori
​

His senses soared, he could feel everything, see everything. The mind was sharpened by the empyrean touch of the Force upon the world around him, he had sight beyond sight. A gift that would aid him in traversing the ruins before him. The Dark Lord brushed his fingertips against the smooth rock, weathered by the ravages of time. Each footstep echoed forth, a stir into the dead of night, his trail into the depths of the Sith Temple preceded by wreckage and disrepair.

Sulfuric orbs of blind hate burned from beneath the hooded form of the Elder, his walk was stifled and his hand firmly gripped around the end of his walking stick. There were great edifices all around him, murals of Sith accomplishment and illustrations of marvels the modern world had not witnessed in over millennia.

“I can feel you.”

​

 

[Vesta]

x
Darth Solipsis ​

Rare, it was, to find herself in company of someone who she needn't garb herself in pointless guises. Weakness, frailty, and vulnerability were all layers of clothing to her, parts of an identity she had framed for herself to keep herself removed from the attention of those hungry few - she'd shed them before, once, when in company of her cousin, in the world between worlds, but had long since covered herself in them as she let the pieces fall and the path clear itself for her advance. The Maw and its Dark Lord were not one she had anticipated, though she had never been gifted with the foresight her mother had, but their rapid ascent was one she had welcomed as it had woken her from a slumber she'd fallen into. The voice that rang out, its words, informed her of the futility of her charades.

"I would have expected nothing less." Mori replied, slipping from the shadows as if she had simply emerged from the darkness.

Her dark hair was just barely shoulder length, her eyes like pools of blood centered in white, and she'd wrapped it all in the black robes one might've expected from a Sith - only to shift the hood away in such a manner that it was clear that even her clothing was a part of her. "The enigmatic mastermind behind Csilla, I suppose?" She asked, stepping into what little light there was as she stared him down. The expression she wore was hard to place, a mixture between curiosity and caution, perhaps. It was the first time they had met, she was certain of that, and there was no fiber in her being that desired to find either of their limits first-hand. She knew so little of him and, though she supposed the reverse was also true, wanted to know more.

Know one's enemy as well as oneself, the adage went.

"I hear they've taken to calling you Sith'ari."

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
The Great Ziggurat | Thule
Darth Mori
​

She emerged from the blanket of darkness with eyes like shattered glass, they cut deep into those they laid bare on. Such intensity was easily recognizable as a reflection of his own, the same burning hatred that lurked beneath the surface like a caged animal. Two orbs shaded the color of sweet crimson nectar intently stared him down as his own enflamed sockets moved to align with hers. His feeble form twisted under the veil of Sith robes as he slowly matched eyes, his sunken features and haggard skin coming to light as a vile grin spread across his lips. Even a false smile could not hide the dark grimace that lurked beneath, the consumptive void that was Solipsis beneath it all.

The figure that was Vesta, no.. Darth Mori was entrenched in shadow rippling from her very being as if she had been beget from it's very womb. He had sensed her before, during the raid on Thule. At the time his attentions were elsewhere, he wondered now how they missed one with such a latent presence in the Force.

"Csilla was just the beginning.."

Tap. Tap.

His walking stick tapped against the ground, the Elder pressed down firmly against it's support and repositioned it center fold. The gutteral roar that resonated from the deep within subsided, the Sith Master leaned in heavily against his aide.

"Titles and names are irrelevant in comparison to the Grand Plan... I am what my actions have made me."

"Ja'ak."

​

 

[Vesta]

Darth Solipsis ​

Freedom.

Her caution shed itself and revealed a smile, or perhaps a grin, as she wondered the interpretation he might've had behind the idea. To be free, after all, was the ultimate realization of Sith ideology - an ironic reality given the trappings of the cult following that the religious movement had created for itself and its followers. She wondered, though, what his freedom was, and if it differed from her own. "A rare find, these days." She remarked, taking the moment to eye their surroundings - she abhorred the artistry and decadence left behind by the people that followed Sith, believing it to be nothing more than sycophantic worship. Chains worn willingly. Her gaze returned to the man in front of her, her arms crossing over her chest.

"I cannot say the same for the ones that tried to follow in my cousin's footsteps."

She spoke of the Empire, of course - particularly those that had tried to keep afloat what was already falling apart, something she had left behind when she had understood the futility of that undertaking when so few were willing to change. She had fallen into a slumber then, but the destruction of Csilla had woken her and more - given her the vitality she had needed to continue to this point. "I was curious of your machinations, though I suppose that should be quite obvious now." Mori explained, tilting her head to the side as she arched her brow knowingly. "I do not serve any interests except my own, but I seem to have found that our interests overlap in some ways that might incentive that I work with your.. brotherhood.. rather than against it."

"Provided you can let go that I might have tested your followers."

She couldn't ignore the benefit it might have for her apprentice, either.

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
The Great Ziggurat | Thule
Darth Mori
​

“Unfortunately.”

Instantly his grin faded away as he reminded himself of what had become the Sith Order. Blind chains worn willingly in service, no progression, no advancement, little ambition. They had fallen into the trap that the One Sith had sown and left themselves heirless, prone to fracture and so like a self-fulfilling prophecy it shattered in schism.

“They are not like us. They cannot weave their own fates, only merely play out that which path had already been preset for them.”

The Embodiment of the Sith was change, to fight it was to embrace stasis and shun evolution. The New Sith Order was forged in the fires of schism and through bloody will had seized the mantle. The Eternals, the Empire.. they had to die for the ideals of the New Sith to rise.

“Freedom and rebirth. The Sith had to be destroyed so that it could be reforged, the fat cut from the lean muscle. The Brotherhood of the Maw is a tool, an idea to spread over the galaxy like a plague and infect it with the liberating power of the Dark Side. In the end it will burn out, but it will do so serving it’s purpose. The New Sith Order however will live on beyond borders.. a solid core, pure and whole. Free from the failures of the old.”

The Dark Lord chuckled abruptly, not out of amusement but almost a sickening sense of glee.

“Good.”

His hand lifted from the aid as he straightened his posture, shifting his weight back to stand tall.

“The New Sith Order is true to our nature. It does not fight it, to become a Lord of the Sith one must seize the mantle.. one must kill the master. The same can be said for any title.. any position. If you did not seek to better us, if you did not seek to slay that which you had exceeded then you would be no better than the fools left to die. All weakness must be discarded, we must continually evolve.. or fall into the cycle once more.”

He extended his hand into the void, a wicked shadow unnaturally creeping beyond his reach against the smooth rock.

“There is much work to do.”

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