Derek Suul

Since I can't find a reliable older one I did, I'm redoing one to the best of my ability. CHARACTER SHEET Real Name: Derek Suul Nickname: Mr. Black Age: 20 Species: Human Height: 5' 3" Weight: 125 lbs Hair: Blond Eyes: Blue Sex: Male Homeworld: Coruscant Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Clothing: Currently wearing Sith robes with a leather vest/leather duster Weapon: Owns a Sith Sword, a red and blue lightsabers, but recently has been practicing with guns/blasters. Has minimal training with the lightsabers, more training with the sword. Force User or Non-Force User: FU, but inactive as an FU. Has skills of an Apprentice Inventory: a comlink, and a few spare credits, as well as what is listed above. Posessions: Stole an A-Wing from someone who owed him a debt, about to leave it at Gala to enter the military and erase his past. For the old players that come back now, Force Side: Neutral Trained by: Ar-Pharazon, never Lorded Trained who: N/A Current Affiliation: Republic Current Rank: Grunt

He looked to her as she spoke, nodding to Azrael when he was introduced. "Yes, please..." He poured a drink for himself, drinking it slowly. It warmed his insides, and his mood. Ever subtly, that hardened wall of caution was chinked away at, and Derek felt like he could be freer with himself around them. His thoughts went back to inside the temple, when he pretty much told his life story to the female Jedi, though he was merely talking to talk. Then, he didn't care. Now...now that he had a possible future, he did care. That was what had changed... "I am fortunate the tales of Jedi hospitality live up to reality. So...you're a Jedi too, Azrael?"

Derek neared the ship, sensing the other person wouldn't be much of a problem, but he was still cautious, untrusting. It was merely his way...but still. He knew there wouldn't be a problem. He took a deep breath as he approached the ship, clipping his lightsaber hilt onto his belt, and securing the Sith sword on his back. His dark clothing contrasted his skin, making it look pale, though in all actuality he had been tanned lightly from being out in the Ilum sun. He walked up the ramp, looking to the new man and acknowleging his presence before sitting in a corner. He felt unwanted, though it was merely his imagination, or possibly his subconscious manifesting in that he needed to feel unwanted at that time. Either way, he knew it wasn't them, but it was him. He was the only one out of place, and for a good time to come, that's probably how it would be. He'd just have to get used to it.

Derek, though having a hard exterior, was no idiot. He wasn't about to let his magnanimous Sithly pride get in the way of a ride offworld. Quietly he stalked behind her, not making any attempt to hide himself, yet not advancing near her to within thirty feet either. He had felt another presence on the planet, nearby, a powerful one. It was simply curiosity and caution that he was exercising now. Just because one Jedi was nice didn't mean they all were, the stinging memory of the first time Tristin killed him gorily coming back into memory... And so he waited, silently, partially hidden by the dark unlit hallways, grasping his lightsaber just in case. You never knew when...

Deep breaths...Quiet your mind. Calm the ocean, Derek... Derek did as she requested of him, taking a large breath, and nearly immediately felt some of his frustration and tension melt away. He focused this time, spending much more concentration on the task than being anxious to complete it. And when he felt he was ready, he tried again. This time, when his hand reached out for his saber hilt, it jerked once as he grabbed it wih invisible hands, then effortlessly glided over to his outstretched palm. "So...is this what the Jedi do to use the Force...it feels strange and almost awkward, but easier to tame than the Dark Side. It...it feels peaceful." He felt her smile at this, and turned his eyes back to the statue. "I don't think I'll try to lift that...not yet. If I lose control, it might break..." He trailed off, thinking about what he had just done. It seemed simple enough, to calm his mind to do something like this, and the Force was just as responsiive to him as ever, yet he didn't need to use his rage to harness it. However, his thoughts quickly went to how the Jedi got on in battle, how they calmed their minds to quickly call on the Force when they desperately needed it. He had never thought of it that way beefore, and marvelled at how the Jedi must have been the true Masters of the Mind. And then, he realized his thoughts were trailing long, his mind a numbing warm buzz. He noticed his pride had vanished, and it was then he chose to spark it back up a bit, if only to retain some of his dignity. "Interesting. I'll have to practice with that more."

"I assure you, I have complete control and focus over my anger now...and it won't control me." He ignored her last sentence for a bit, continuing his futile struggle with the statue. Both were silent for several minutes as the Force ebbed and flowed around them, seemingly escaping him. He strained with all his might, trying to tap into his feelings that lied beneath, just like Ar-Pharazon had taught him. But what he knew was completely different from what the Jedi had just said. It was a totally different world. Tiring of the constant struggle, he sighed, giving up again, and instead called for his saber to return to his hand, turning to face her. And stopped halfway as he realized his saber wasn't responding to his miniscule grip on the Force. In fact, it was barely nudging around on the ground, twitching as if alive, but otherwise not even making headway in his direction. That was what set him off. Again, he tried, much with the statue, to lift this small object, using his frustration, his anguish, and still, nothing. "You're kidding...please tell me you're kidding..." He muttered under his breath, but he was sure the Jedi had heard. Finally, after several more seconds, he caved, trying to follow the Jedi's advice as best he could. Calm his mind, release his anger... Think happy thoughts, Derek... He snickered as the thought passed through his mind, but it was gone as soon as he could manage it out of his mind, trying to calm the tidal wave of thoughts. It was far more difficult than he though, calming his own mind, and he struggled with the most basic thing for another several seconds before making yet another attempt at his hilt. This time, he reached out to the Force around him, trying to gently will the hilt up into the air, to at least bring it off the ground. And for a few seconds, nearly four, he was successful, the hilt wobbily raising off the floor nearly an inch before hitting the floor again. He sighed, finally admitting to himself his situation. "Fine. Show me. It's not that I want to learn from you, but I want to learn, alright? Just so you know."

Derek turned, sneering her words in desperate denial. He heard her, but he didn't want consolation...not right now. It wasn't hatred, not of her anyways. He was simply lashing out at her, being the first person he had seen in years, it was only logically natural, but he didn't know that, and didn't really notice. He honestly hated himself, but was afraid to admit it. "Maybe. Then again, growth is different from healing. True, I will grow from this, but I will grow with it. It's just...inside me. Forever... It's this pain that makes me who I am. Makes me human. Tristin cured me of the poisons Ar-Pharason infected me with, but that doesn't cleanse my soul. I'm still tortured, drawn between two worlds that don't want me. "True, I could go back to the Sith, but I'll never be the powerful master I could have been. I might get the rank, but it would be meaningless in front of the other Sith. I could learn the Jedi ways, but there would always be doubt about me. Just like there were seeds of doubt in the Jedi when I left this existance...that's what constantly tears them apart. Mistrust of their own ranks." He grabbed his lightsaber, igniting it, the red glow lighting his face. The act was more idle curiosity and something to do with his hands than anything else. He stared at the blade. Though he knew he was not in it, it was his, and it was still a part of him, whether he liked it or not. "That's what I never liked about the Jedi...always thinking away from emotion and more towards strict logic. It's our pains that keep us alive, let us know we're still living. Our pains that make us stronger. But...pain and suffering were of the Dark Side. Maybe...maybe that's how Jedi can be strong. We all are of the Force, but some focus off of a different part of the cycle than others." He disignited the blade, tossing the hilt to clatter on the flagstones at his feet. Again, with renewed vigor, he attempted to use the Force to raise the statue, and after a long moment of straining, gave up. "If you'd like to be useful, you could heal my connection to the Force or something. I'm not sure how it works...I never heard anything about the healing energies of the Force except by name."

Derek snickered to himself at what he said, not caring if she heard. His head dropped back down, and he closed his eyes, once again raising his head, simply feeling the Temple's pulsations around him. It was...peaceful. Calm...something he hadn't felt in a long time. And though it was soothing, there was still the sting her words brought his thoughts. Her compassion was great, but her comprehension was a little low. Maybe it was because she hadn't had coffene earlier this morning, Derek honestly didn't care. "I guess you don't get it...unless you can give me the past, I'll always have my past. I'll always have my pains. That...that much is unavoidable. You can help my problem of being on this planet, you can help by educating me a little in your Jedi arts if it strikes your fancy, but I will never heal..." He reached his hand out, drawing on the Force, focusing his energies on the statue, though it was a weaker connection than he remembered, and the dark energies that had once flowed through him, ready to do his bidding even if it was no longer fueled by hatred, was gone. He could feel the Force, but he couldn't use it in the same way. Time and again he tried, only to become frustrated and give up. He was weak...and he knew he needed to once again be strong. Whether or not the Jedi could teach him was a gamble he was willing to take. Hopefully, it would pay off. Otherwise, he knew he would never be the same.

Derek didn't face her, merely inclining his head as he half-felt her to acknowledge she was there, his senses attuned elsewhere. He turned back, studying the few decorations that this temple had. "It used to be so beautiful...the old one. Shame this Temple was not built like the one I knew. Solid blue crystal, an entire palace of it. Destroyed by hate and greed...kinda like me." He walked forwards, studying a large statue of a nameless Jedi Master of old, no doubt pulled from some older obscure file in their dusty databanks. Still, it held an air of regality to it, not quite prideful, but strength and honor were clearly written across the statue's face. Derek remembered the pride, but never had he considered himself worthy of the titles of honor or regality. Strong, he had been. Strong enough to see the truth for himself, to see that he had mistakenly chosen the lie his parents had, the lie his master had perpetuated, the lie that was both the cancer and the fuel of the Sith Order. That the Dark Side was more powerful, offered more. All it had done for Derek was ruin his life, leave him stranded on a planet to wake years after, whole parts of his life simply missing. He wanted it back, but he knew it was the price he paid for selling his soul to the devil and then wanting it back. Derek turned, finally looking at the person who had approached him, hopefully the owner or contractor to the spaceship he had seen outside. Someone to get him off the wretched planet, be them Jedi or Sith or the very Devil himself. She was beautiful herself, half hidden in the shadows. It accentuated her features slightly, enough so that she had a sense of mystique around her, but still felt warm and loving. And she had an aura, that was obvious, which immediately gave her away as a Jedi. "Well...do what you will with me. Tristin forgave me, tried to heal me. He succeeded, to an extent. But you can feel it just as well as I can, the taint, the stain. I'll never be pure again, pure like I could have been. And now, look what I have to show for it." He turned dramatically, sweeping his hands up to the statue, jutting his arms in the air, crying aloud words of frenzy as if he had lost his mind, even though they both knew he was perfectly sane. "And look at me now!! Look at me! What am I? What have I become? What will I be?!? I slit the gullet of my life open for a complete stranger to see, and I still don't care. Maybe because it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters. Nothing ever did. That was the problem, still is the problem, my problem. Nothing mattered enough to try and make a difference...and that was how I fell." He dropped to his knees, looking up towards the heavens beyond the ceiling of the Temple, hoping there was some essence of a god to hear him. Here he was, pathetic and torn, speaking now with a heavy sarcastic drawl. "I am Derek Suul. Hear me roar." He stayed there for a few more seconds, looking, studying, hoping. When nothing happened, no sign came, he hung his head, quietly rising once again to his feet. And this time, he spoke directly to the other, not the tone he had been using before, where he could have simply been talking to himself. He calmly cocked his head over his shoulder, still facing the statue. "Please, I'm sorry you had to hear my sob story. Usually, I'm not this...emotional. I've just been through a rough time recently."

Miles and miles Derek walked, Unhindered by the winds and the occasional light gust of snow. He was wrapped warmly in his clothes, and where he was on Ilum was not at all as hostile as a few other places he had been, and he had survived those quite easily. Sith were very resourceful, and Derek had been no exception. Eventually, he saw a structure in the distance, and continued walking towards it, hoping that someone would be there, possibly to help him find his way offplanet. Near sunset he neared the massive structure, easily recognized as another Jedi Temple. It seemed the Jedi were fond of this planet, as Derek had become as well. As he approached the large entrance, he said a silent prayer for himself, hoping to be clean enough to not desanctify the place. Tristin had cleansed him, but Derek still had his doubts.

Reposted, fixed information. Real Name: Dalla Suul Nickname: Black Age: 17 Species: human Height: 5'11" Weight: 195 Hair: brown Eyes: hazel Sex: male Homeworld: Coruscant Alignment: good lawful Clothing: Black Sith robes/dark trenchcoat Weapon: lightsaber, Sith sword Force User Inventory: comlink, clothes Posessions: Only what is listed. Dalla has come back...nothing in his possession.

It was a cloudy day...not a day at all like the happt ones that Ilum had recently experienced. It was if angels were mourning, mourning the dead, mourning for a new day, mourning to mourn. Snow began to fall, flake by flake, lightly dusting the landscape. The air was still, no breeze, and silence ruled the realm. Snowflake by snowflake fell, softly, one by one...and finally, one landed in an unexpected spot. The lip of a young man, comatose, lying peacefully in a small field where a mighty Jedi Temple once stood, now empty, filled with grasses...and now, the landscape was dusted white. Dalla slowly woke, opening his eyes, seeing the sky for the first time in an eternity, free from the pull of the Sith. He had not the heart to kill needlessly, and had long ago sought the Jedi, being healed by the one known as Tristin Stellar. He rose, sitting up, holding his head with his hands. For now...he had no home, he had no ship, all he had was his personal effects. A Sith sword...an old lightsaber...his clothes, and the ability to choose for himself a new destiny, thanks to Tristin. He stood, studying his surroundings, feeling the Force's flow in this area. It was strong, the light within strong. Long ago, though the memories burned fresh in his mind, he was trained in the Force, trained to twist and control the flows and eddies, to use it as a tool. Such views were of the Dark Side, and Dalla never got a chance to find out what good he could have done. But now...now he had the feedom to experience the Force through different eyes. He spent a few minutes more looking around, contemplating the events that led up to this, Tristin and his motives, where he was on Ilum and how he would get offplanet, and why he had been given this second chance. One thing was for sure...it marked the end of the Sith within, making way for a new beginning.

Dalla slowly turned around, not knowing what was behind him. He sees Tristin, or at least an image of him. He preps the ship.

Dalla looks skeptical, but finally asks,"Where?"

Dalla speaks back into his comm. "Because I would need one to heal me. Heal the Sith poisons that infest my body, that make me unwhole, that condemn me to hell."