Whispers on the wind

[Arabella Darkhold]

Have you ever walked down the street alone in the quiet of the night? That feeling of insecurity, of someone is watching, of the unknown lingering in your thoughts. Without thought or reason your pace picks up, you might even turn your head looking and watching for any would be attacker. It is in these moments where you are unsure, where the shadows hide more than you can see it is then a hand can reach out brush the hairs on your neck and steal your breath from you.

It is in these shadows Arabella walked. It is here she hides from the world the galaxy not wanting their piercing gaze or benevolent words. No. How she felt was of her own doing, and how she felt would either lead to her undoing or it would make her stronger. But when would she reemerge into the galaxy, did she need to.

She let out a deep sigh that passed through her it sounded more like a moan of remorse a deep low sound that could be mistaken for a wounded animal. What had she done, and why had she done it. Her father had warned her multiple times but she had not listened thinking she knew better. She was wrong; she knew little and at times nothing. She tilted her head upwards cobalt blue eyes looked upon a sky full of stars. Was he looking at the stars, was he still alive. He was so wreckless so…she stopped thinking of him to do so was risky it could trigger sensation in the bond they shared.

A sith needed no one, she told herself countless times. A Sith was stronger without the ties of friendship, family, allegiances yes as they could be used and then destroyed. But the other held no hope. She pulled her jacket tighter and walked silently along making her way back to the two room flat she occupied. She had stopped living when she destroyed her world now she existed within the darkness. When she had gone into dark places before there was always that flickering blue light to bring her back. She missed [member="Muad Dib"], her Maudie. She shook her head cleared her thoughts again. Why was she thinking so much on him tonight, was he in trouble? Or. Was he close to finding her? She made a face. Wishful thinking he had probably forgotten her married Leylah Draclau, and had little fire starters. Or. He was dead.

If he was dead, wouldn’t she know, wouldn’t she feel it? She pushed the thoughts away again. “Get a grip” she admonished herself she walked a little quicker down the walkway, she needed a drink. She headed towards the nearest cantina.

The Dragons Wing Cantina, someone had a penchant for the medieval she thought as she went in. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the brighter lights. She nodded to those who looked her way and headed toward the bar. “Strongest whiskey you got” She wanted to be numb.

A few pair of drunken eyes looked her way, some moved closer. Arabella noted them but dismissed them she’d slice them in half and pick their bones if she had to. Bones. She met them both over a bone. She closed her eyes and downed the glass, “another” She needed to forget. She looked down the three rune markings still on her arm, she still did not know what it meant. It was not a reminder, a painful reminder. The next glass arrived. Arabella nodded again. Another thing she learned from her father, alcohol kills the pain.

A whisper from the back talked about munitions and Balmorra. Balmorra they had gone to Balmorra to invest. She closed her eyes, and downed the next glass, “one more” She was beginning to feel it now the off balance feeling, the ease of forgetting.

Too late the memory of Tattooine filled her senses. She lost it as soon as the glass arrived she downed it. She looked around, where to start. Someone grabbed her by the waist, without even looking she balled up her hand into a tight fist and slammed it into the face of whoever it was. Someone then yelled BAR FIGHT!

It was on.

 

[Al Gorlock]

He watched the drunks, grinning heavily, with cigar in resting on his very, very, very rough lips. "Fething lunatics!" He mumbled to himself before he noticed [member="Arabella"], he grinned, slowly heading over to her. A drunk almost fell into him as a fist flew into the drunk's stomach. "Watch it!" He said to the drunk, who had a look of terror appear on his face once he saw what was Al's face. He grinned at the terrified drunk, smile so wide it threatened to split his burnt and scarred face in two.

He headed over to Arabella, nodding. "Darlin' mind if I take a seat 'ere?" He asked, nodding to the chair beside the woman. He slowly removed the cigar, holding it between his ring and middle finger, blowing out a ring of smoke.

 

[Muad Dib]

He paused in the shadows that cloaked him like skin. Unseen. Unheard. But two glowing, blue orbs were flashing in the darkness revealing his position in the darkness. Tilting his chin up he breathed deeply, nostrils flaring as he followed the trace of a scent. There it was. Dropping his face he began walking once more as he followed the scent.

Time, space, experience ... all these had separated the two of them and yet as he continued to do what he did best he looked for her. The bond was still there but as it had been dampen as of late he was loathe to search it out fully. Perhaps because he wanted to respect the distance set between the two. Perhaps he didn't want to know she moved on. In either case he couldn't bring himself to stop looking. And now he was on the same planet as her. And he was tracking her.

Moving into the starlight he glanced up for a second seeing stars twinkling in the sky. But the sight of the beautiful night left him hollow. Sliding down the walkway he ensured his hood was up, covering his features. He was just another man dressed in dark brown clothing out for a stroll. Well, one with glowing eyes.

As the scent grew stronger he paused before the doors of a cantina that, by the sounds of it, was in full brawl mode. A flicker of a grin crossed his face. Then he reached into his jacket and removed a pair of shades to slide that dark tinted glasses on. The blue orbs vanished. Pulling in his center he focused on who he was, what his presence was, and slowly shrunk it until he was masked in the force. Then he entered.

The brawl was just beginning and he walked the perimeter until he slid into an empty chair at a table isolated from the hub bub. He snagged a glass of whiskey from a passing waitress but before she objected he dropped a few credits on her tray. She moved on. From his viewpoint he saw her, saw his [member="Arabella"] . Well saw Arabella at the very least. She just had hammered back a drink then slugged a guy.

That's my girl.

But then a man swooped in and made to join her and Muad leaned back as if he had taken a physical blow. Draining the drink in one gulp he placed the glass on the table and planted his hands on the surface. Though whether to rise or just to steady himself, he wasn't sure.

 

[Desolis Kharr]

A sudden feeling came over those who occupied the bar, a feeling of emptiness, as if all the happiness in their lives was being sucked away and consumed by something. The room grew silent, all that was heard was thumps, boots connecting against the floor slowly and dramatically. As the noise echoed through the unusually silent cantina, drunks and sober patrons alike cleared a path that began at the doorway. There stood a hooded figure, surrounded in black robings that casted a shadow over his possible identity. From under the hood a slight red wisp was seen to those close enough, the pure bogan aura seeping from it's body was strong indeed. Stopping for a moment to observe the sudden change in the setting, the figure continued to walk as others stared in pure fear for their own lives.
As he got closer to the two near the bar a ray of light caught the mask of the figure, his eyes peered through absorbing the light and revealing his glowing iris. The amber eyes only appearing for a moment were a sight to remember, Desolis Kharr "The Personification of Despair" had arrived.

Looking down into the crowd as he got closer to the bar, a slow step at a time. He seemed to be searching for something, as if using his connection with the force to sought out something. "Where is it... It is here somewhere... The source of this darkness..." thought Desolis as he sensed the force for nearby users. His bogan aura easily identifiable and unique to his very own person, no one could mistake that it was he, the hand of the Lady Praelior. Getting closer and closer, he finally placed his gaze upon [member="Arabella"] "There it is..."

 

[Yetari Sellix]

Yetari had just finished with a patient when he decided it was time to relax at the local watering hole, which was how he ended up at The Dragon Wing Cantina. Once there it was the usual bar scene; drunks moping about trying to forget the troubles of their lives, men and women looking for "a good time", and some who just came to enjoy the social atmosphere with (or without in his case) some friends. He purchased his one glass of wine for the night and sighed in relief once he sat down at the counter and prepared himself for some relaxation.

That unfortunately did not last long, for someone felt the need to get too touchy and started a free-for-all brawl. There were fistfights going on all over, and suddenly he realized that one of the nearby tough-guys decided the only person worth fighting was the physically unimposing doctor. Yetari jumped over the counter to evade the drunken charge and armed himself with the nearest bottle he could grab. He held the mighty weapon in one hand, ready to swing if he had to.

"Back off!" Yetari yelled as the chaos continued around them, "I'm not afraid to use this, so don't make me do it!"

The large human chuckled at the warning as he tried to climb over and move in for the kill, but the doctor made good on his promise, probably against what the attacker expected, and swung his bottle like a madman until he made contact. The half empty bottle exploded across the man's face, glass and liquid flying as some of its remains became embedded in his foe's face. Yetari almost couldn't believe what he had done, and as the man's screams of pain pierced his ears he went into doctor mode and knelt down to begin fixing him up as if he was a medic in a warzone.

It was then that it all suddenly stopped, and when he looked up to see why he immediately knelt back down in fear.

"I don't like the looks of this..."

 

[Al Gorlock]

He stared at [member="Desolis Kharr"], Al didn't find this...thing's appearence disturbing at all. Al's face was completly fleshless and was quite hideous. "Can I help you?" He asked, ignoring the fact that Kharr had his gaze upon Arabella instead of Al, himself. He slowly placed the cigar back into his rough mouth, studying the...Al guess you could call it a man. He slowly adjusted his black tie, blowing out one more grey cloud of smoke. "So pal, you don't look like your from around here?" He asked, placing his hand on his trenchcoat, as if he had a weapon.

 

[Desolis Kharr]

[member="Al Gorlock"]

Hearing the words of Al, Desolis simply closed his eyes and slightly shook his head for a moment before rendering his sight upon the ugly thing. "Wretched pest, you have no value nor right to speak to me." Clenching his left fist, the rest wisps began to form around his hand, starting to circulate, gaining revolutions around his hand like an orbit. As the wisps began to move quicker, the force gathering in his hand under his manipulation, a flame like concentration of aura was seen surrounding his hand. With one quick manuever, Desolis discharges the pulse of force towards the center of mass that is Al's chest. Due to the close proximity and and speed that the force push would provide, missing is almost unrealistic. Naturally the body of Al when hit would fly back several meters uncontrollably, damaging his body upon blunt force impact of the landing.

 

[Al Gorlock]

He saw the force, looking at it, unintimidated. "I'll say whatever-" He was interuppted as the blast struck him, injuring him severely. He flew back into several bar stools, before slamming into the end of the bar.


He let out a moan and slowly reached up, grabbing a remaining bar stool. Now, most patrons were retreating, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the mercenary. He slowly pulled himself up, looking at his cigar on the floor.


He stumbled over to the cigar, falling to his knees, gritting his teeth in pain. This was definetly going to cause permenate injury, not doubt about it. He scooped up his cigar, slowling standing up.


He leaned onto the corner of the bar, looking at his shirt. It was ripped open, large burn wound on Al's chest. His tie was burned to oblivion when he was struck by the blast.


"That was my favorite tie, motherfether!" He mumbled under his breath. His brown trenchcoat also had been burned heavily, including his shoulder holster. He slowly reached into his trenchcoat, using the table to steady himself.


He removed a DL-20 scattergun, slowly raising it, directly pointed at [member="Desolis Kharr"]. He almost fell to his knees, as the sharp, burning pain grew worse. He gripped onto the large steel pole on the counter of the bar, grinning. "Feth you", He managed to gasp, pulling the trigger of the scattergun, attempting to hit Desolis.

 

[Arabella Darkhold]

[member="Al Gorlock"] [member="Desolis Kharr"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Yetari Sellix"]

[SIZE=12pt]It was closing in on her she could feel the dark side lingering, drawing stepping closer to her. She looked around the one she had punched had been drawn into another fight. She had not opened herself up or she may have felt Maudie near, and what would she have done.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The one who asked her to sit she paid little attention to his looks, the alcohol was helping her forget any inhibitions she may have harbored. “Sure sit” She looked around waiting for the next punch. Even though the fights were breaking out around her. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=12pt]She couldn’t shake that sense of someone walking on her grave, she looked toward the doorway. If she had any dread left in her it may have been amplified but no she was at the lowest point the only place lower was death and she’d not give in to that till it claimed her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The figure in the doorway was looking at her, she stared back for a moment, maybe two. Who was that, her mind a fog. She did not recognize him, and she didn’t care until he seemed to be closer.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=12pt]Arabella recognized either confidence or power as it radiated off the figure she knew that when the one sitting near her spoke it was a mistake. This kind of presence cast by this man demanded that one speak only when spoken to.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Good thing she never lived by anyone else’s rules but her own. Not something she would be proud of at this moment, for living by her rules is what got her here. Dammit.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]“Yep, you look lost. Or maybe you’re looking for something a trinket for a girl back home, a kitty for the orphans” Arabella was being sarcastic but she did not know what he wanted she was rambling.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]And then that feeling again [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]wavering and who the hell..she looked over in time to see some stranger wielding a bottle and yelling like a madman. Then the unexpected he bonked him on the head with the bottle, which made Arabella laugh.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“Did you see that?” she exclaimed. Then the guy next to her flew backwards, and all hell was breaking loose around her. "ALRIGHT! THAT WAS COOL!" Yes she was drunk she turned to the bartender, "ANOTHER!"[/SIZE]

 

[Muad Dib]

Before he acted or left, or whatever the hades he was going to do, several things occured. A smartly dressed man with a bottle fighting, the presence of a darkly robed man entering, the exchange of words between the skull head and the man which ended with the man, with the formerly smart looking tie, being tossed away and then rising to fire of his scattergun at the robed man.

Pushing himself up from the table he walked along the wall as his eyes flickered behind his shades. It had been awhile since he had truly enjoyed a nice fight in a bar. And this one was calling his name. But the only thing that gave him pause was [member="Arabella"] for she would recognize him in action having seen him fight many, many times.

No doubt the hooded man was a force user and from his fashion sense a darksider. Muad grinned from inside his own hood as he felt his body react to his surroundings. Oh he wanted to fight but he held himself in check as he picked up a second whiskey forgotten at the end of the bar.

 

[Desolis Kharr]

[member="Al Gorlock"] l @Arabella

Frowning under his mask, Desolis would see the slug flying towards his body, at speeds that he could easily defend against with his lightsaber. Knowing this, Desolis still didn't move and instead stared deep into the face of Al as the slug thrower exploded a few inches from Desolis. The shot had been blocked by something invisible, a sort of force field. Desolis' ray shield had momentarily shown itself, an orb composed of interlocked octagons around his body. After the impact and explosion, the shield itself returned to a state of "invisibility" as the energy emitted from his belt. Holding his hand out as the debris from the slug cleared, he would focus anger and disgust onto the barrel of the DL-20 Scattergun. It began to grow heavier in the hand of Al, starting to crack slightly under the density of the force. The barrel begging to bend and break, it would easily be crushed right in front of Al's eyes. The metal shards from the barrel flying in many directions, easily puncturing skin due to the velocity and rigidness. "You dare attempt... to injure... me..." At this point ignoring the drunk Arabella, his rage rising by the moment. The scattergun rendered in-operable by now, to the point that if fired, the one who pulled the trigger would suffer the damage.

Begging to walk forward towards the being that was Al. Getting closer and closer, he would soon begin to tower Al due to not only his size but the fact that Al was struggling to stand. "Kneel..." whispered Desolis once he was close to Al, "Kneel... and I may spare you a painful death." Looking intently into the face of Al, at this point the red mask made of Phirk alloy visible under the hood. The sith looming over the mercenary, wisps of red light seeping from under his armor. The pure hatred protruding from the decaying skin of Desolis, the skin he so much tried to conceal under all his protection. The giant that was Desolis would begin smirk under his mask.

 

[Al Gorlock]

"I don't kneel to nobody!" He managed to blurt out. At this moment, [member="Desolis Kharr"] could easily bring Al to his knees due to Al's injuries. "Man, I wonder what your mother thinks bout you? I mean, you certainly ain't to pretty if you ask me", He mumbled, dropping the destroyed slugthrower. "Feth you, as long as I can fething stand I wont kneel to a fether such as yourself. You remind me of one of those holotapes, you know? The coward that always gets decapitated at the end...yeah, that is you, alright!" He then started chuckling. If this sith really wanted Al to kneel, he'd have to force him to his knees.

 

[Muad Dib]

That bone head had begun to grow on Muad. And for the first time that evening his attention truly strayed from [member="Arabella"] and onto [member="Al Gorlock"] and [member="Desolis Kharr"] . Stepping forward with his drink he moved over to stand next to the wounded male and glanced up into the darkened cowl demanding knees to touch floor.

"I hate seeing guts on the floor. Well not exactly true, but in this case I think the guts should stay where they are. Don't you mate?"

Muad grinned, white teeth glinting within his hood as he stared at the sith not quite challenging him but certainly not bowing either. A hand strayed into his jacket pocket and pulled out two carababba tabac smokes. One went to his lips and the other was tossed to the bar next to [member="Al Gorlock"] . A lighter flicked into existence and lit the end of his smoke.

 

[Arabella Darkhold]

Arabella was not really listening at the banter between the men she was downing another drink the effects of which had finally achieved the goal she had intended, she felt nothing the permanently fixed smile on her face was fake, her eyes were glazed. The once clear cobalt blue eyes that had been able to behold the darkness and have it envelop her hiding her forever were dilated.

She watched the cowled one [member="Desolis Kharr"] as he demanded that [member="Al Gorlock"] kneel and pay homage to him. But then another hooded one entered the picture throwing about cigars like some madman. Pfft she thought, where was the guy who hit the other with the bottle. She felt queasy. NO. She would not be sick she needed to feel this way she needed to block it all out.

She crawled on top of the bar stool putting her head down on the bar she watched the three men there. It was really strange but that hooded man sounded a lot like Maudie. ([member="Muad Dib"]) She laughed, she really was drunk, very drunk.

"I don't know a little blood on the floor is always good" She had. She stopped. She wouldn't think on it what she had done, how she had done it. She took a deep breath, eyes watching.

 

[Desolis Kharr]

@Arabella @Muad Dib [member="Al Gorlock"]

Looking towards the new hooded figure whom seemed to be flaunting his cigarettes around. "Forgive my misunderstanding, but are you requesting I spare this Insolence?" Looking back towards Al, seeming to frown to the point that a slight audible growl is heard. "Tell me stranger, why does he deserve to live?" Staring into the eyes of Muad, speaking once more. "He has no use, no skill, no potential... no... power..." Holding his hand out slightly, not fully extended he begins to close his fist as he channels the force. "Resistance is futile, I, he who is born of pure hatred, he who feeds off of fear am not to be denied." The force begging to condense around the knees and ankles of Al, making they very dense. As the force becomes stronger, the red wisps of energy become visible around the affected area. Pain soon followed by the audible cracking of bones, the cartilage struggling to hold. Desolis would be forcing Al into the kneeling position, against his will. Due to such pressure on him, if he were to resist injury would surely follow.

"Saving a life, demands the loss of another... stranger" Hmm, a life of equal value to the one being saved. Raising his free hand and focusing the force upon the shards created by the slug thrower. Desolis raises his arm furiously, closing his hand into a fist as it aims towards a nearby drunk patron. The shards penetrating his body in a flurry of debris, within moments the floor covered in blood and the mutilated body lay lifeless. "Perfect..." whispers Desolis, looking to the group before him. "It seems you have been given an opportunity to find purpose... not a common luxury." snarls Desolis to Al, whom at this point is most likely on the floor in pain.

 

[Al Gorlock]

The pain in his knees...it was brutal. He let out a wretched scream, falling into a kneeling position, almost instantly. The pain, it was absouletely unbeliavable. It felt as someone had taken a light saber, jammed it into Al's legs, and slowly sliced them in half. "YOU FETHER!" He shouted, staring up at [member="Desolis Kharr"], pain on his features. He continued to grit his teeth in pain, his pain only increasing, rather swiftly. "YOU FETHING COWARD! YOU CANNOT FORCE A MAN TO HIS KNEES WITH NATURAL STRENGTH OR SKILL! YOU CLAIM I HAVE NO SKILL, POWER, OR POTENTIAL! WELL, I GOT NEWS FOR YOU, FETH YOU! GO FETHING FETH YOURSELF!" He continued to shout insults, the pain was unimaginable.

[member="Desolis Kharr"]

 

[Yetari Sellix]

Yetari watched the brutality unfold from his safe spot behind the counter, the man he was treating having already ran out of pure fear, and felt a mixture of fear and anger swell up within him. Even with a father for a Jedi he had always felt nothing but disdain for anything related to the force, and now one of them was carving a swathe of destruction through the cantina. Even still, now there was another stranger confronting him to save a life at the apparent cost of another and the drunken woman who started it all having the time of her life laughing and seemingly enjoying the carnage. Yetari felt like he was in a den of madness, and there were not too many options besides simply fleeing like the others.

It was then the doctor remembered the now crumbling Al, and knew that would need medical assistance as soon as possible. This situation was extreme, but in the end he chose to be a doctor instead of a coward. He slowly stood up from behind the counter, and began making his way towards the injured party.

"If he is spared then sir, I'd like to see to his wounds. I'm sure you would have no problem with this, as you've claimed your life already." He then glanced at the hooded man nearby, hoping that if the monster did do something he might have an ally of some kind, "You have no need to hurt anyone else here, correct?"

[member="Desolis Kharr"] [member="Al Gorlock"] [member="Arabella"] [member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

[member="Yetari Sellix"] [member="Arabella"] [member="Desolis Kharr"] [member="Al Gorlock"]

Behind his shades Muad felt his eyes glowing brighter as he felt his anger begin to spoke. A cold grin crossed his face as he stepped forward, partially blocking the good doctor and the mercenary on the floor cursing. Bringing his hands up he lowered his head and removed his shades and tucked them into his jacket pocket then pushed his hood back letting it fall to reveal his featured.

Brilliant blue eyes with fire in them blazed from an unshaven face. Short, brown hair stood on end. But the feature most impressive was the cruel smile now on his face. Dropping his pin point hold on the force he let it fill him, his aura of slight madness spreading. The smoke dropped forgotten to the floor as the sith knight hooked his thumbs in the leather belt and took another step forward crowding the decaying sith in front of him. Looking up he chuckled, a low roll from his chest.

"You speak of skill ... potential ... power ... and I look at one with hunger unrealized. You puff out your chest and preen as if you are owed something. You take a life and think it makes you appear all powerful. All you look to me is ... weak. You smell of despair and fear. Your aura stinks of it. But a mad man has no fear. And I AM the Mad Knight. As for the girl, she's mine mate."

 

[Desolis Kharr]

[member="Muad Dib"] [member="Yetari Sellix"] [member="Al Gorlock"] [member="Arabella"]

Looking to Muad, analyzing his body, using the force to feel his aura. Desolis is not impressed, nor does he fear. "Fear, it is nothing compared to solitude..." Desolis turned his back to Muad, begging to take a few steps foward to create space between them. Turning around, he began to speak once more facing Muad. "Tell me, how can one such as I distinguish fear from comfort? I whom was born in darkness, even when I came from the brightest of places." Using his left hand to move his robings effortlessly, revealing his durasteel belt. On the belt dangled a curved hilt saber, signifying that Desolis was a strong duelist and expert bladesmen. "Do you challenge my anger?" Desolis grinned under his mask. "You truly are mad..."

The people who remained would start to either flee or move back from the two. Creating a circle around us of spectators, it seemed almost imenent for the two sith to face off in a fight of pure hatred. Although Desolis sensed that Muad was much more experienced, he understood that his hatred did not compare. The aura of Desolis and Muad begging to collide, fighting for domination of the space. It seemed like the air would grow dense and thicker, making it harder for people to breathe. Even for those whom had little to no connection to the force, the evil that was concentrated in this room provided by the two siths was great. Desolis prepared himself for an attack, his lightsaber easily reachable at this point and his ray-shield active. He was soon emitting his signature red wisp of an aura, a sign that he was growing angrier by the moment.

 

[Muad Dib]

[member="Al Gorlock"] @Arabella @Desolis Kharr [member="Yetari Sellix"]

"You have no idea exactly how true you are."

Muad grinned as he shrugged free of his jacket and tossed it onto the bar. Reaching over with one hand he grabbed the glass of whiskey and drained in. All while keeping his glowing eyes on the other sith. Opening his senses he placed his right hand back on his belt where his lightsaber hilt protruded from it's sheath.

He felt the anger growing in the sith and new it to be a strength. And a weakness. He would have preffered an imbecile for a weakness. But anger would do. Anger would do. Rolling his shoulders he flexed his legs a moment as he limbered up. The faint smell of ozone in the air from his enhanced senses testified to shielding. Good, then it won't be too easy. Turning sideways with his left foot forward and his side facing the sith Muad grinned mockingly.

"Anytime whelp."