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Who Am I? [Isley]

moderation
Writer
Coruscant.

Where he was born yet not where he was made. Did he chance a return to Thyferra? Kaine would know, he would only need look in the eyes of his botched experiment to realise he knew the truth. It had proven too much, to have the veil lifted from his eyes, the voice in his head screaming at him to kill the man, to ignore the words, to crush him. So much so that Cassus had fled, leaving the Cantina and stepping out into the noise polluted air of Coruscant's lower levels. Clad in his pilot suit, a military looking garb which was far too exposing of his position and Faction within the Galaxy as it brandished the Imperial Mark, he skulked through the shadows, ignoring the voice of Tracyn should he try to call after him.

What did he expect? He just told me I'm barely even a year old, that everything I know is a lie, everything false.

His anger flexed through the Force and when he came upon a dead end he smashed a Force-imbued fist into the duracrete wall. Taking a few steps back he prepared for a run up, exerting himself to leap from one wall to the other, the space between mere feet, slowly making his way up to the low-roof of a slums building. From there he could see the sky but not the stars - no, it was far too polluted a planet for stargazing - and allowed himself a moment to breathe. With his anger subsiding he could feel the taxing result the benefits of using the Force had upon him, he had overexerted his abilities in one short burst, with only his remaining anger left to fuel him.

I want them dead. I want them both dead, and the Jedi, and the Sith, all of them. They deserve no mercy.

From his high vantage point he watched as Republic Shuttles and air speeders zipped this way and that, the Galaxy oblivious to his silent plea. He had to find a way to increase his power, his threshold. His hand slipped up to the dual sabers upon the front of his open flight suit, beneath the outer Imperial Military Officers jumpsuit to the chest-belts beneath. The feel of the cold durasteel upon his trembling flesh helped to set his focus straight, and while the rage continued to bubble within he found himself capable of rational thought oncemore. He had to find a way to sort his mind, else Kaine would simply use him all the more... And he could not permit such.

@[member='Isley Verd']
 
W A N D E R E R
Writer
Providence versus Luck is a debate that many had engaged in throughout the centuries. Some were adamant believers in the providence of the Force and were of the firm opinion that the enigmatic entity orchestrated occurrences that would change the face of the Galaxy. Others simply believed in probability and random chance, electing to thing that such happenings were not influenced by any outside force, save the passage of time. For the Mandalorian wandering about the Undercity of Coruscant, the debate would start within his own mind following an interaction that would take place the moment he rounded the corner...However, one must first ask the question, what brought a warrior, such as he, to the capital of the Galactic Republic?

A lover of the Dark Side, no less?

The simplest answer was that his pockets were a little lighter than he would have preferred, and as such the prospect of side jobs was appealing indeed. Sure, the Archon of the Templar Order had named him her second in command, whatever the kark that meant, but it didn't add any zeros to the end of his paycheck amount. As such, Isley found the need to supplement his income; and mercenary work was a'plenty these days. So, as the beskar-clad warrior rounded the corner which led to the alley in question, his mind was set upon mundane things; such as how to collect on the bonus of his next job. Then, as if he had walked into a brick wall, the presence of the Dark Side struck him. It was nothing as monumental as the Sith Masters he had encountered in days past, nor was it as cultivated...

But there was an ocean of potential.

And just like that, the Mandalorian practically forgot all about the side job and placed his full attention on the epicenter of the Wrath. It was a man, perched atop the wall before him which, upon closer inspection, bore wounds that either came from a Force-imbued strike...or explosives. 'Temper, temper.' Isley thought to himself, with his lips curling into the beginnings of a smile. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could convince this storm of Force and Wrath to utilize his power to advance his ambitions...but that called for an interaction. "You there," came his voice boldly, "I can feel your anger, and the Force, from way down here. Do you think it wise to allow your Wrath to storm where the Jedi might feel?"

@[member="Cassus"].
 
moderation
Writer
Cassus was completely consumed at this point, his anger bubbling, melting and then cooling, only for the process to repeat itself all over again. A grunt of annoyance left him as he spotted, on the distant horizon, the towering presence that was the Jedi Temple. That one building held the majority of his hatred, even now, even though he had learnt the truth. He could not help it, he had been programmed to do so, and now he had to live with it. His Mother was dead, at the hands of Kaine most likely, his Father barely keeping his head above the waves which threatened to pull him under. And he was here, an abomination in the man’s eyes, a weapon in the other’s. How could he return to Thyferra? How could he venture to Thule to see Kaine? But if he didn’t… If he didn’t, Kaine would make his life unbearable. All Cassus had to do was look at his true Parents to know as much.

It was then that he heard a voice, booming up at him. His gaze snapped down with predatory like precision, immediately fixated upon the beskar’gam-covered man. His fists clenched in place, before he sighed an extremely long and drawn out breath. This man was right, however Cassus did not care. If they sent a Jedi he would only get what he wanted – and that was to destroy the likes of them. “If they come they will wish they hadn’t” he asserted, before turning his sights back to the overhead traffic. Knowing that this man would not let him be he turned on his heels completely, crouching down to monitor him. His head tilted to one side, and then the other… He was measuring up the armour-clad man.

@[member="Isley Verd"]
 
W A N D E R E R
Writer
Unless the individual before his eyes was beyond adept at the art of masking and minimizing their total presence in the Force, then the doubts which formed in the Mandalorian's mind were spot on. He knew that the Jedi Order boasted the advantage of numbers...in addition to having a number of Masters who were stronger than he. As such, for any of their "holy" midst to regret coming down from their pirch would most likely not come from the warrior who stood, perched upon the wall. In fact, they would probably be much more upset to have ventured into the Undercity than an altercation with him. However, Isley did not make these thoughts vocal; as he knew that they would probably incite the warrior's Wrath and result in a botched attempt at securing a disciple.

As such, the Mandalorian simply reached out to the Force. He felt its ebb, relished in its flow, and guided its presence to his limps. He bent his knees and then took to the air, utilizing a tremendous, Force-born jump to bear him to the rooftop. With a near...grace...he landed and folded his arms across his chest. There was no pride nor condescension in his stance; for he was simply, and casually, standing. "Unless you have an army up your sleeve, I sincerely doubt it." he said simply, sizing the man up with a discreet look up and down. "However, there is no denying that you house within you enormous strength and even greater potential. The storm of your anger is evident young man, and so I ask you...Why are you here, garbed in Imperial attire of all things? Why stand, glaring at the Jedi Temple? What is your story?"

@[member="Cassus"].
 
moderation
Writer
When the man raced up the air to land upon the roof beside him Cassus glared. The beast within him began to speak, urging him to be rid of this pain alongside all the others which had presented themselves – Kaine, Tracyn, Sith, Jedi, all of them… But even Cassus was not so delusional to believe he could do so. “How do you know what I have up my sleeve?” he inquired, an attempt at humour which was likely ill placed, a grim smile upon his lips. He was mad, he wanted his vengeance, and yet as this armoured man at his side continued to speak he realised it was the truth. The notion of Republic and Sith planets was still new to him, and as such he shook his head and glanced down to the Imperial patch upon his shoulder.

And then he did the worst thing imaginable and asked for his story. With a sick little bitter laugh he shook his head and glared at the Temple. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you – Kriff, I don’t even believe it.” Unclenching his fist he turned to face the Beskar-garbed individual. “Why are you here? Don’t you have better things to do with your time?” But truthfully? Cassus was grateful for the distraction.

@[member="Darth Metus"]
 
W A N D E R E R
Writer
When the wrathful man spoke once more, the Mandalorian could not help the fact that his lips curved into a smirk of sorts. This was in response to the grim smile which formed upon the man's lips, alerting Darth Metus to the fact that the statement was humorous in nature. To his end, he responded in turn, stating simply: "Those sleeves are a tad too tight to hide a Star Destroyer, let alone a fleet of them. That is how I know." He allowed his words to linger in the air whilst hearkening to the man's words. Apparently he had been through a lot, and possibly in recent history, judging from the way he had responded to the question. As such, the Mandalorian folded his arms across his chest and indulged him with the answer.

"I came to the Undercity in order to engage in that which it was built for. There are unsavory characters all about these streets, and many of them know how to come about credits through a variety of means. That is why I am here, simply on business. In truth, there are a variety of things that I could be doing with my time right now, but you have intrigued me, to the point where I wouldn't label them 'better'." he said in a rather blunt tone, before continuing. "Now then, you say that I wouldn't believe your tale...I sincerely doubt it. In my lifetime, I've seen and heard plenty of things that would make the average man's head spin. Try me."

@[member="Cassus"].
 
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