Arachnakorr

handofthrawn · January 1, 2017

A R A C H N A K O R R

Astrographical Information

Region: Unknown Regions, Mobile.

Sector: N/A

System: N/A

Moons: N/A

Grid Coordinates: R-10

Physical Information

Class: Hidden, Habitation Sphere (Cloning Center)

Atmosphere: (Type 1 Breathable Oxygen Mix)

Primary Terrain: Varies entirely; climate can be changed, and surface levels can be reconfigured or micromanaged.

Points of Interest:

Overview

Three major locations;

Arachnakorr
The Glass Worldcraft of Afterlife

The mobile planetoid is wrapped heart and soul with many immeasurable translucent beams; it would appear as if the entire worldcraft is enveloped with massive crystallized webs that bury themselves into the far depths of the soil and shoot upwards into the high skies. Their purpose isn’t wholly understood, but everywhere you turn there are tangles of them far and wide unless you are above the barren Halls. Each and every structure within Arachnakorr is built with what seems to be a solid bone white stone and carved into all kinds of aesthetic but practical builds, except the House of the Laughing Corpse which burrows beneath the surface of the planet. Inside of Arachnakorr, you will find no end of the exquisite symmetries of buildings, deep jungles reminiscent of the Demon Moon Dxun and grand oceans either frozen over whole or with rapid tides that cover the body of the planet. In District 3, or any of the lands cultivated for folk to roam, you will find an overabundance of behemoth-sized trees that spawn only the liveliest of pink blooms. The glass worldcraft holds possession of it’s atmosphere by way of a powerful force-field while hidden grav-field plates sustains the standard gravity. The core of Arachnakorr is a monstrous reactor that powers hyper-drive engines and a functional tractor beam. Glass cobwebs, forest flushes of fuhscia, meshworks of artistic white bone, unpolluted cerulean blue skies and ocean-water to match; a divine and fascinating dream of a planet, but there is always a nightmarish howl that never escapes the wind, a howl that loosens from the belly of the Halls.

- (E M B R Y O // D I S T R I C T T H R E E) ; Example of common garb and common structure. Most areas will be RPed with this environment and these details in mind
  
  Within what most would consider the capital of the worldcraft, Embryo fulfills it's namesake due to what lies beneath the many mountains it sits on that are chained together by beautiful and vast bridges. There are several highly sophisticated umbrella cloning facilities littered throughout the district, all commonplace among the locals. Different cultures and people from all around the galaxies are invested here, but only the richest of the bunch that are able to afford and maintain the upscale society. Planets, animals, minerals and exotic elements from all ends of life are found or replicated here which allows an extreme convenience to remain solely on this planet, for the coming and going is excessively monitored and restricted. Embryo is the only known civilized section of the small worldcraft and to venture too far from the known is considered suicide. The Vermillion Covenant oversees all in tow with the Artificial Intelligence known as Ghost, meaning policing and governing as a whole; what's kept sacred is the large synthesized (strangely 'alien') sacs that are hung like eggs on the outskirts of Embryo as well as buried beneath the mountains. Here in the city, the common people understand the truest philosophies of the Sith Order and praise them as Gods. The common-folk are empowered by their idols and inherit their strengths by challenging themselves outside of the civilized land against the dangerous beasts that are spawned for sport. Gone are the days of Sith with meaningless agendas because on this planet it is known that with power there is a renewed and infallible focus that must serve an ultimate purpose. Embryo is the heartbeat of the worldcraft, but for those strong enough, the Halls is where the soul feeds.

- (H A L L S O F T H E L A U G H I N G C O R P S E) ; Situated at the most Northern Apex of the Worldcraft. Far removed from the rest of the planet
  
  The Halls of the Laughing Corpse is a giant superstructure that is built into Arachnakorr at it's most northern apex. Travel by air is the most common method of arrival but the harrowing winds do make the trip a bit tricky. Not much is known about what remains inside this massive gateway into the depths of the world but there are rumors within Embryo that keep the children awake at night. The exalted Sith have been known to frequent the round-trip there but it comes as no surprise when those that travel there come back in fewer pieces than when they left. Still, the Halls are an impression of fear and uncertainty and only the brave and the power-hungry hunt there.

- (P A N T H E O N ; S I T H S A N C T U A R Y) ; Hidden Temple of the Sith Order
  
  One more place of prominence is The Pantheon. The location is unknown to the common people, and furthermore, the existence of it is unheard of by most. This sanctuary of the Sith is emphatically different than the traditional mundane temple that the Order is used too. The Dark Side of the force is said to have hatched an uncontrollable and violent spirit here, sowing this land with a power so overwhelmingly intoxicating. Upon arrival, one who dwells within the dark side of the force is invigorated wholly. You are first met with enormous pillars that surround a mammoth sphere built from a mysterious alloy. You can hear the voices of the Old Masters whispering a language of power to your very veins. You can enter the sphere at your own risk, or allow the concealed lift to descend and give you access to one of the most supreme temples of the Sith Order.

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Umbaran, Anzati

Immigrated Species: Many

Primary Language(s): Basic, High Sith, Anzati

Affiliation: Sith Empire, Dark Lord Exodus

History:

Before the fall of the Sith Order, and the scattering of it’s people. Lord Exodus, one of few left with the mind and the power to harness the breath of a new order, was sought out and presented with a blueprint to secure the longevity of his people. The infighting and strain that the Order faced was no secret, and those that worshipped the Master of the Assassins did everything they could to find a solution. The first solution of merit was presented as a habitation sphere. Umbaran scientists sketched the probabilities and the designs of an artificial planet that could house millions of people as well as the wild berth of all that nature had to offer other planets. The plan never saw fruition before Lord Exodus vanished from the known worlds, but the conception of Project Arachnakorr continued forward. Trustees and worshippers alike fueled the desire to complete the sanctuary, linking third party sources and drawing from a pool of resource only known to an incorruptible few. Arachnakorr would construct and harbor state-of-the-art cloning centers, and commission the production of people, plants and animals all the same. Their true purpose unknown to the diverse but confidential selection of hands involved in the drawn out process.

The dwarf worldcraft would colonize into the deepest seeds of the Unknown Regions and remain a machination of unparalleled design and utmost genius; a gift for the Darkest of Lords. The worldcraft had real terrain including a forested surface with several small bodies of water including rivers and swamps, an unknown stretch of desert an artificial aquamarine sky. The Worldcraft retained its atmosphere through the use of a force field while buried grav-field plates maintained the standard gravity. The hidden core of the Worldcraft was an immense reactor that powered the hyper-drive engines and the necessary tractor beam, which was used to hold a miniature sun in place. Due to its miniature size and its rapid rotation on its axis, days on the Worldcraft were much shorter than standard days on most other worlds.

((Summary compiled by Exodus. Thank you!))

Edited April 14, 2020 by Exodus

The Sith Empire · January 3, 2017

Dark Lord Exodus, Allfather of the Assassins

The Sith Order : Assassin Branch

Arachnakorr Status: Mobile Proximity - Umbara

Embryo District 3 // The Halls of the Laughing Corpse //

Overview

Three major locations;

Arachnakorr
The Glass Worldcraft of Afterlife

The mobile planetoid is wrapped heart and soul with many immeasurable translucent beams; it would appear as if the entire worldcraft is enveloped with massive crystallized webs that bury themselves into the far depths of the soil and shoot upwards into the high skies. Their purpose isn’t wholly understood, but everywhere you turn there are tangles of them far and wide unless you are above the barren Halls. Each and every structure within Arachnakorr is built with what seems to be a solid bone white stone and carved into all kinds of aesthetic but practical builds, except the House of the Laughing Corpse which burrows beneath the surface of the planet. Inside of Arachnakorr, you will find no end of the exquisite symmetries of buildings, deep jungles reminiscent of the Demon Moon Dxun and grand oceans either frozen over whole or with rapid tides that cover the body of the planet. In District 3, or any of the lands cultivated for folk to roam, you will find an overabundance of behemoth-sized trees that spawn only the liveliest of pink blooms. The glass worldcraft holds possession of it’s atmosphere by way of a powerful force-field while hidden grav-field plates sustains the standard gravity. The core of Arachnakorr is a monstrous reactor that powers hyper-drive engines and a functional tractor beam. Glass cobwebs, forest flushes of fuhscia, meshworks of artistic white bone, unpolluted cerulean blue skies and ocean-water to match; a divine and fascinating dream of a planet, but there is always a nightmarish howl that never escapes the wind, a howl that loosens from the belly of the Halls.

- (E M B R Y O // D I S T R I C T T H R E E) ; Example of common garb and common structure. Most areas will be RPed with this environment and these details in mind
  
  Within what most would consider the capital of the worldcraft, Embryo fulfills it's namesake due to what lies beneath the many mountains it sits on that are chained together by beautiful and vast bridges. There are several highly sophisticated umbrella cloning facilities littered throughout the district, all commonplace among the locals. Different cultures and people from all around the galaxies are invested here, but only the richest of the bunch that are able to afford and maintain the upscale society. Planets, animals, minerals and exotic elements from all ends of life are found or replicated here which allows an extreme convenience to remain solely on this planet, for the coming and going is excessively monitored and restricted. Embryo is the only known civilized section of the small worldcraft and to venture too far from the known is considered suicide. The Vermillion Covenant oversees all in tow with the Artificial Intelligence known as Ghost, meaning policing and governing as a whole; what's kept sacred is the large synthesized (strangely 'alien') sacs that are hung like eggs on the outskirts of Embryo as well as buried beneath the mountains. Here in the city, the common people understand the truest philosophies of the Sith Order and praise them as Gods. The common-folk are empowered by their idols and inherit their strengths by challenging themselves outside of the civilized land against the dangerous beasts that are spawned for sport. Gone are the days of Sith with meaningless agendas because on this planet it is known that with power there is a renewed and infallible focus that must serve an ultimate purpose. Embryo is the heartbeat of the worldcraft, but for those strong enough, the Halls is where the soul feeds.

- (H A L L S O F T H E L A U G H I N G C O R P S E) ; Situated at the most Northern Apex of the Worldcraft. Far removed from the rest of the planet
  
  The Halls of the Laughing Corpse is a giant superstructure that is built into Arachnakorr at it's most northern apex. Travel by air is the most common method of arrival but the harrowing winds do make the trip a bit tricky. Not much is known about what remains inside this massive gateway into the depths of the world but there are rumors within Embryo that keep the children awake at night. The exalted Sith have been known to frequent the round-trip there but it comes as no surprise when those that travel there come back in fewer pieces than when they left. Still, the Halls are an impression of fear and uncertainty and only the brave and the power-hungry hunt there.

- (P A N T H E O N ; S I T H S A N C T U A R Y) ; Hidden Temple of the Sith Order
  
  One more place of prominence is The Pantheon. The location is unknown to the common people, and furthermore, the existence of it is unheard of by most. This sanctuary of the Sith is emphatically different than the traditional mundane temple that the Order is used too. The Dark Side of the force is said to have hatched an uncontrollable and violent spirit here, sowing this land with a power so overwhelmingly intoxicating. Upon arrival, one who dwells within the dark side of the force is invigorated wholly. You are first met with enormous pillars that surround a mammoth sphere built from a mysterious alloy. You can hear the voices of the Old Masters whispering a language of power to your very veins. You can enter the sphere at your own risk, or allow the concealed lift to descend and give you access to one of the most supreme temples of the Sith Order.

Exodus · January 3, 2017

At last, the Predator crashed into the quiet atmosphere of the majestic worldcraft and cleared all sanctions to land. The entire expedition from Serenno was extremely quiet and extremely unsettling. No one spoke a word; all of the cloaked and covered members of the vessel did little more than fall in and out of slumber and keep to themselves. It was unusual, even for Sith, for Seven bodies to coexist in a small space and mention not one word to one another. There was an unstated focus between all of them, almost as if each of them were concentrated on a common objective. All except one. Exodus was disassociated with the rest of the crew, perhaps even detained in an isolated room.

There were screams. Violent and out of character fits that came from that same room. You could hear scratches on the wall, eruptive bouts of the force that smashed whatever else was inside those chambers. Yet and still, the crew remained unruffled. Exodus was alone, and could not suppress the flare of the force inside of him. It drove him mad. But his assemblage knew there was more to this; more to his outburst on Serenno and more to his lunacy now.

---

The vessel unfolded and swooped low enough to caress the dust-covered plates of the Pantheon. The loud thrum of the spherical relic was inescapable. They could hear it resonate with every fiber and every bit of their bodies. The sound was incessant and mellow but crooned as if metal was dragging across the floors. The crew of seven stood at the forefront of the inclined ramp with Exodus now huddled at the rear of them all, his body without real posture and huddled as if he hadn't the strength to straighten himself. Nonetheless, the powerful flock marched forward into the open structure of the temple surface. Gusts of winds roared into the company and whiplashed them with loose earth; each of their arms lifted to brace against the harsh climate.

Suddenly, the floor beneath rumbled alive and retreated the band of Sith meticulously underground before returning and sealing itself whole again.

---

"

The wall was carved of rustic stone and made to illustrate the fiercest faces of the Old Masters. Amogmar, the behemoth of the Seven, stood across from the engraved wall and unfolded his great palm across the breadth of it. The wall shifted, jarred a little more and then lifted abruptly.

"... Welcome home."

A man sat at the end of an outstretched dinner table which looked as if it could seat dozens, his familiar voice filled the air and echoed far. The room was lit only by the dancing of candle flame set in the middle of the embroidered wooden table. There was no telling the true size of the space he occupied however but it felt as if there was no end to the darkness all around them.

The team bowed simultaneously, dropping to one knee and bowing their heads. Exodus didn't or couldn't and was hard to tell which of the two was more accurate. The man smiled, his face covered in a veil of shadow but somehow the emerald tint of his stare was impossible to miss.

Exodus hobbled forward, a pitiful effort in how he moved. He had deteriorated from the well-founded stature he carried of late, and none could speak to the cause of it. Yet step-by-step he fearlessly approached the man at the end of the table. Soon after, that very same figure lifted himself from the chair and wasted no time in meeting Exodus head on. As he drew near, his features became chillingly apparent. His lower half was covered in black slacks that drew no attention, but his upper revealed only flesh while his arms and breasts possessed bizarre designs brightly illuminated in an alluring sanguine. That wasn't the strange part.

As the two came to their final steps and halted, both men passed no measure of surprise as they reviewed one another for what they really were, for this was the plan all along. Exodus now stood across from Exodus, both smiling before one slowly faded into nothingness and was eaten by the hunger of the Force.

Exodus · January 9, 2017

Black arid smoke riddled the atmosphere as soon as the doppelgänger effect dissolved whole. The old Exodus withered and was no more, but his time on Serenno allowed the absolute one to understand the state of his brotherhood a little further. He now knew there was much work to be done. The loud and burnished marks across his arms were brilliant and stole the allurement of the candle flame that flickered from side to side. "What a disgrace this Order has become!" He spoke to no such individual in particular but his metal varnished fist smashed into the wood of the table and commanded the full attention of the Seven. Each of them wise and powerful in their own fundamental right and none of them dared to lift their heads and test the wrath of the man who sealed them as one. They could feel the fumes egress from his adjacency; the madness that dwelled inside of him-- but they understood his passion. "Dväsia, how holds our Guest?"

A shadow peeled itself from the wall, there was no discernable scent nor look to this dark spirit, but it was there nonetheless and it came whenever Exodus had called. "...Her heart stirs but her mind and her feet are slow to follow, my Lord. The trauma she suffered--"

"Enough! She knows nothing of trauma. Fetch me when she awakens, I will have words."

"...Your excellency." Dväsia, or otherwise 'Ghost' vanished as well. His form adjusted to the black without fault, just as he came and just as he left. Still, the Seven knelt before Exodus in the blackest room and unmoved since arrival. Their discipline was unrivaled but their power was their true draw, and soon it would be revealed. Exodus moved forward passed his warmongers and out into the yawning hallways, exiting the black chamber. Apostles robed in white cloaks holding their books and their torchlights hobbled down the vast pathways and whispered their prayers under their breath. The dark side was in the air, the smell of power and divination salted the entombed atmosphere and Exodus fed on the source of it.

Keenava Dira · January 12, 2017

COWARD!

The word was harsh and cruel.

But it cracked through her ears as her bones shattered on steel.

Then…

Black…

Everything was black.

Or was it?

Silence enveloped her as she fell into an endless void.

Senses were muted.

Even her mind was alien here.

Her thoughts were hollow.

She tumbled for ages.

She flipped end over end, and her world seemed distant.

She couldn’t feel anything.

The world was numb, formless, and cold.

It was eerie.

But then, what was eerie?

Eerie was a construct of existence.

Without existing, would we all continue to drift forever?

Would our words and thoughts have meaning?

Or would we keep on drifting?

Lallu’s mind wandered aimlessly. But a small sensation tugged at her, begging her away from the void. It was a tiny thing; barely noticeable in the black nothing. Yet, as it tugged, the sensation grew into a substantial force. It pulled at her. And like unwilling flotsam, she capitulated.

Bit by bit it pulled, and she felt echoes begin to return to her ears. She could feel the whisper of feeling in her fingers. And when it reached the climax of its movement, Lallu felt the spark of life return.

From the womb of darkness, a shadow cried. It sang out for all to hear. Its cry was dissonant and shrill, but its power was unquestionable. The candle had been lit. The candle of life had been lit and it blossomed into a beautiful inferno. The rose stood once more. Its petals were restored and its stem was once again, full of vitality.

********************************************************************************************* ****************************************************************************************

Lallu felt reality snap back like a sharp blow to the head. She wasn’t conscious, but she could feel the world around her, pushing in. Her mind was substantial again; not a vague hodgepodge of abstract feeling. And her thoughts were solid, if a little aimless. It was a queer feeling, but Lallu had somehow come back from the dead. It was what she wanted. Though, some part of her never imagined that such a thing could happen –Sith magic notwithstanding. She had hoped that her careless act wasn’t the end. But she wasn’t certain. She had invested a considerable amount of money to ensure her doubt. But she had to be sure that they were away from Furion; or anyone else. It was all she thought to do. And she was prepared to make that sacrifice.

Sacrifice? What Sacrifice?

The voice was familiar, and before Lallu could think further, Kana emerged from the shadow. Her expression was sour, but her posture suggested vague accommodation. That wasn’t sacrifice, dear. That was selfish escapism and denial.

How so?

Well, did you give any thought as to why we came back?

Well no, but you told me-

Yes, I know what we told you. I’m the one who said it. Kana’s tone suggested annoyance. Don’t you think we might be your mind’s way of telling you that there is a problem?

What, why?

Because, apparently, you’d rather kill yourself than face what you truly are; because you’d rather kill yourself than let him see what you truly are.

And what’s that?

A monster…

Lallu felt the word crawl up her metaphysical spine. It was sand, grating on her tongue; It was salt, raking through her eyes; and it was nails, scratching the delicate flesh of her ear nubs.

But all my trials, and my growth… I’m a Sith Lord.

That may be. But all this time, while you allowed yourself to feel a little at a time, you neglected the deeper, darker parts of yourself. i.e. Us.

Lallu wanted to muse alone. She desperately wanted to be done with this. But Kana was right. They were all parts of her. They accompanied her through death and back. And although she figured they might, it was her hope that they didn’t.

Where are the others?

Currently; they are not talking to you. And frankly, I don’t blame them.

But you were going to tell him, show him, hurt hi-

AND THEN WHAT?! Kana’s voice spiked. Her eyes were hot with anger and her posture turned aggressive.

Uh…?

That’s right. You didn’t know. We didn’t tell you. I was going to applaud you Lallu. I was going to tell you that I was proud of your relationship with Furion and say that you’d moved past being his lapdog. But when the chips were down, YOU shot yourself down and denied revealing what you were to the only person in this galaxy that we care about.

We?

Yes. We-

But I-

That’s enough Lallu. We know when we’re not wanted. We’ll go hide away again. You won’t have t-

WAIT!!!

Kana stopped, turning slightly, to catch Lallu’s exclamation. What?

I’m sorry. Lallu’s metaphysical gaze shot at Kana. Honest remorse and regret stung her mind and she looked hard at her alter ego.

I know now how hard you and the others have fought. And although I won’t deny some selfish desire to be rid of all of you, I am nothing if not grateful for all the help you have given me. I don’t think I can successfully move forward without accepting all parts of myself and learning to use every facet of who I am to succeed. It will take time. And the transition will not be easy. But I want to open myself up. It is the only way I will grow.

Kana stopped for a moment, speechless. Her expression went from befuddled, to concerned, to awestruck in the span of a few seconds.

You really aren’t the same Lallu I knew. Kana said. She shook her head in silence. A small smile worked its way to her prideful expression. And in moments, she passed the gap between them.

I look forward to the next adventure Lallu. I’m ready. Kana stuck her arm out, and Lallu accepted it without pause.

Let’s do this.

********************************************************************************************* ****************************************************************************************

Cold; It was really cold.

Ice picks cracked against Lallu’s lekku as blistering sensation drew her into panicked consciousness. Blackness greeted her and she awoke with a start, almost immediately falling prey to mortality. Liquid wrapped around her. And she felt pain as her lungs bit back the onset of asphyxiation. Her immediate thought, brief thought it was, was to mentally ward off her frantic mania. Because, like all creatures, her instincts would struggle for survival. But that was often messy and unhelpful. Her arms and legs began to flail wildly. Her flight response rallied against her. She needed to calm her anxiety. Nerves would not solve this. She needed time. And with patient force, she willed her arms and legs to shoot out and combat the container, instead of pointlessly swinging back and forth. She began to use considerable strength to surface or adjust her body to get an ample supply of air, but her efforts were in vain. The shell of her casing was slimy and awkward. The membrane yielded to her touch but didn’t break. It was asinine. Her efforts seemed indefinitely futile. But she refused to give up.

With a renewed oomph, Lallu started pushing her weight around. She began to feed her limbs with as much power as she could muster to blast the casing open and force her way out. It wasn’t the best strategy in such tight quarters, but her options were limited. She fed her growing need into her body and drew on her frustration. She didn’t know how hard she would have to pull. But fate seemed to have an odd sense of humor. It turned out, she didn’t have to go far for the power she demanded. Like the sluice gates of a dam, the dark side of the force eagerly greeted the frustration in her fingers and an ample flood of power came surging through her fingertips. It was refreshing and intoxicating at the same time. It seemed she would suffocate anew. But she could work with what little air she had now, and she managed to sustain her oxygen supply until her container inexplicably opened. She didn’t know how to respond. She couldn’t react to the new stimuli in time and she fell gracelessly into… a pot?

A tangle of limbs, she splashed from the dark cold liquid of her former prison, into even more liquid; and yet another prison. But this liquid was warm and red. It soothed the aches of her body and sent tingling sensations down her spine. It tickled in an oddly pleasant sort of way. But she needed air. That was important. Thankfully, this new prison had a surface. A surface that she quickly availed herself of. With another splash, Lallu pushed her way through the opening. Light, sound, smell and air blasted on high all around her. Her senses were overloaded and she had to shield herself from the violent greeting. But while she was out, she opened her mouth and immediately took a breath. She fought, somewhat in vain, against her impulse to draw too much air. She figured the discomfort of expanding lungs was a paltry price to pay for what she was going through, but she needed to have her wits about her. She need waste no time coughing when she didn’t recognize where she was.

Where was Talus?

Didn’t she pay to clone on Talus?

Confusion tiptoed up her vertebrae as she adjusted to the water. Something was wrong. She didn’t know what it was, but the abstraction was unsettling. Without an alternative, Lallu shook her neck out. She soaked in the refreshing liquid for a moment and felt a growing unrest deep inside her body, like a slumbering mynok.

The room was calm; too calm. Lallu waited a moment longer - her eyes closed - and listened to the room. It was quiet and muted. She needed more. The Twi’lek called to her eyelids, but it took time for them to respond. When she finally pried her lids from their resting place, she immediately started looking around -- she didn’t have time to waste. She traced the room, scanning her environment, but harsh new light pierced her virgin eyes. Splinters of pain broke the thin layer of her eyes and she blinked violently in response, shielding their development. They were oddly pristine. Her eyes were more sensitive than they had ever been before; exerting them, although necessary, seemed counter-intuitive. She needed them. She didn’t want to be taken by surprise and she didn’t want to be ignorant of her surroundings. Her master taught her as much. But she also needed patience. When she could acceptably scan the room with little difficulty and only mild irritation, she found that the room was very simple. It had only one point of entry and exit; a door near the corner of the room. The design of the door, although she could barely make it out from where she was, was relatively modern looking. Odd, considering the incongruity that comprised her current state of affairs.

Yet, it was what she had to work with. While she scanned, Lallu listened. She kept an ear out for mysterious sounds. And aside from her own breathing, the only sound she could pick out was the pulse of life in the air around her. The dark side thrummed in the air, in the walls, in the floor and in the essence of the room itself. It was everywhere. This room, or wherever this room was, was a font of dark energy. It was gloriously terrifying and threatened to ebb away at her emotional defenses.

Cautiously ignoring the fire building in her heart, Lallu looked up – paying homage to her early lessons in survival. What she saw, however, only added to the oddity of the room. A large egg sac hung from the ceiling, gaping open and dripping with goo. With a few seconds of further observation, Lallu found that: it hung by a string of grotesquely colored tissue attached to the ceiling, the opening of the sac dripped with dark viscous goo, and the entire apparatus pulsed every few seconds with a mysterious energy that poured in through veins in the ceiling. The whole thing was oddly organic for a medical facility and unlike anything, Lallu had ever seen. Yet, it was oddly familiar.

Ah, okay.

Lallu noted the position of the sac’s opening and felt the warm, red liquid around her. It didn’t take her very long to see that she had fallen from the egg sac and into the urn at the center of the room; a room that, she had just realized, was covered in plant life. Lallu placed the palm of her hand on her face and sighed. She felt ashamed that she hadn’t noticed the plants first. But the foliage stood out now, a variable menagerie of different varieties. She couldn’t look away from them. Their leaves were a natural rainbow of hues. And the smells; the smells were interesting. Lallu’s nose, that had before been deprived its purchase, found a bounty of wonderfully interesting smells.

What is this place?

Where am I?

Lallu could feel the liquid around her. It was warm and refreshing. Her limbs felt full of energy. And her body felt… New.

Lallu felt the tips of each finger on her left hand. The scars were gone.

Lallu felt the lines of her back. Her muscles were still there, but the familiar indentations of her tattoos were gone.

Lallu felt her ears and belly button. Her piercings were gone.

Whatever this was; everything about her body was physically new. And that thought disturbed her more than anything else. Nothing was familiar. She had nothing to cling to and the alien she was, began to haunt her thoughts. It was uncomfortable and her discomfort led to an irritated resolve.

Lallu gripped the edges of the urn and pulled the rest of her body to the surface. She used her renewed strength to flip out of the urn and land, with a little turbulence, on the ground.

Now… Where are we?

The Sith Empire · January 12, 2017

The Construct Sentient stirred from beneath a thicket of broad leaves that hid his sinister silhouette. The hollow phantom surfaced as if it crawled from the buried hells below and lifted an eruption of miasma in his tiptoed emergence. The presentation was beautiful and full of menace all at once. There was no face to discern who he was, no detail to unravel about this creature except that he was an amalgamation of charcoal threadbare coverings. From inside his folds of black linen, a highly decorated horn was lifted from his waistline. The creature lifted it overhead into the thick atmosphere and let the sound of the rustic instrument bellow loud across Pantheon.

The Reaper.

A ravenous roar of a thousand warriors and a thousand worshippers broke out without hesitation. Boisterous chants burst out all across the Pantheon. The walls shook with complete verve, the floors boomed with the tremor of a crowded march. The entire temple was alive and swam in zeal. Even the plants itself breathed hard with a mist that would drown this room in euphoria. The singing, the shouting, and the carolling brewed with the heavy thundering of war drums. An unbounded celebration for what those men understood was power.

Nwûl tash!
Dzwol shâsotkun!
Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk!
Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan!
Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha!
Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak!
Wonoksh Qyâsik nun!

“...Rest well?” The voice was remarkable; sunken and deep-set with a hard dose of malevolence that punched through the harmonies of the souls that bustled all throughout the temple. It was miraculous each time this happened, the birth of a Sith celebrated and empowered by men and women who would no sooner tear her throat out to inch themselves closer to a power that was just within reach. Still, it was festive no less and the masses would be their most primal from this hour forth. The shadow that had monitored this womans’ amelioration never moved from his point of arrival, but rather just watched the naked Twi’lek without shame and with severe prejudice. Her records of irrationalities and madnesses were of note before her careless suicide, these actions would need to be disciplined before her passage was endorsed.

Keenava Dira · January 16, 2017

Lallu’s back tensed, and each vertebra knotted as the fever pitch of power drove further into a massive spike. The wails and cries that echoed in the chamber around her, rang with the soul of death. Their chorus of morbidity sung the hollow notes of desire and hunger. The fire of their melody was so powerful that it saturated the stone. And although enraptured, the new tones stabbed cruelly at Lallu’s sensitive, newly-developed ears. She tried to shield herself from the pain, but their discordant notes carried insatiable desire. Lallu did what she could to resist the pool of energy around her, but their cathartic harmony fed her natural tendencies and instincts. She felt her hands pushing out from her sides and clawing at the energy around her like a wild beast. And it came. The energy rushed to her like an eager wave of ice, filling her immediate response with that of resistance and recoil. But she rallied and grabbed on to her failing thoughts. She would not show vulnerability; not here. This place of unknown threat and tremendous power would bring only weakness and death if Lallu surrendered to passivity.

___________

Kana, we need to go. Lallu’s metaphysical form said. She established an autonomic control to her body before turning to face her more voluptuous Id. We don’t have too much time, but I believe time runs a little faster in my head than out of it.

Kana nodded her head, but still looked puzzled. What do you mean?

We need to find the others.

Kana grimaced but nodded again. They won’t be happy to see you, you know that, right?

Yes, but I need access to all of myself. If they block themselves off I won’t have the power I need to sustain myself here. We know nothing of the world around us. Heck, we know nothing of this room.

This is true. Tis a wonder that you were born again. We’ve had those tattoos for ages. And now…

Yeah. Lallu sighed as she started walking out of the metaphysical representation of her ‘brain command center’.

Wait, Lallu? Kana asked as she fell in step behind Lallu.

Yeah, Kana?

Does this mean you’re a virgin?

Lallu’s mind blanked for a moment and she had to stop her pace to process what Kana just said. WHAT?

What? It’s not that strange an idea. And if everything else was restored to what it was before ink, metal, etc, was ‘everything’ really restored?

Lallu took a moment to process what Kana was saying. In essence, what she said was correct. But that would be so bizarre. Everything that had happened in her li-I CAN’T THINK ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW! Lallu’s thought blurted out and her metaphysical form blushed deeply.

Aww… Look at those rosy cheeks.

KANA, TIME AND PLACE! This is neither. We need to focus.

Okay, virgin. Kana said. Her sardonic wit, cutting like a knife.

Lallu’s tone moved from bashful to threatening. Her glare at Kana was enough to set fire to her form; that is if it was within her capabilities. I swear Kana if I didn’t need you… Grrr.

Wait? Why do you need me? Kana asked. I could have stayed and played pilot.

No…

Why not?

Well, to be frank, all of you are parts of me. But you’re extreme caricatures of me. If I handed my body off to you, I would be humping everything that moved, or manipulating people and killing them with poison. I know, I saw it.

Kana looked defensive. But she didn’t deny it. Instead, she stuck her tongue out and pouted for the duration of the walk. At least it shut her u-

Hey, Lallu?

Lallu sighed. Yes?

Which one are we doing first?

Kara.

Kana inhaled sharply. Her eyes widened and she seemed to back down a little. Why? Kava would be easier. She might just join you, considering she is the most logical of us.

Kara is the beast. She is the beast that slumbered within me all those years. If I don’t bring her back, I will regret it.

Kana saw some reason in that, but her horrified look never left. Okay… I will find a place a little farther away.

Sure. Lallu said. Chains appeared out of nowhere and wrapped themselves around Kana’s arms and legs.

Hey, Kana said, her voice dropping in pitch and her eyes creasing. Desire dripped from her voice with every word like liquid pheromones. Are you trying to say something Lallu?

No, this is payback. This is also so you don’t go back and take control of my head.

Kana looked pained. Lallu knew it was a bluff, but Kana tried to make it look as sincere as she could. Why whatever do you mean?

To quote one of our previous conversations, ‘we share the same mind sweetheart.’

I didn’t say, sweetheart.

I know, I improvised.

Cute. Kana said. She struggled a little in the chains, but she could move. Lallu walked with her as they continued further and further into the depths of Lallu’s mind. They were moving through an imagined cavern. Each step drew them closer to the base of the frontal lobe. Or, what the frontal lobe looked like in Lallu’s metaphysical imagination.

Every step drew memories to Lallu. Each memory sang with pain and terror. They sang of rage, and anger. She could see herself on Trulalis, unleashing pain and power in a terrible fire. She could see herself defending Furion against a terrible construct. She could see all the pain and explosive emotions she felt whenever she let go of her emotional turmoil. It was unbearably powerful and as she drew closer, the power grew into a blinding scream. It was terrible and it was her. It was how she coped with her slavery after losing so much. She needed this. All of this was necessary.

When her feet could no longer find purchase, she knew she had arrived. She could see the fiery red eyes looking at her through the dark. She had found the beast, and it was time to work.

I know you want to tear me apart. Well, come and get it.

___________

The apparition that materialized was haggard and willowy. Lallu wasn’t sure he even truly existed. The dark side was so powerful here that it could just be a manifestation of its will or a figment of her imagination. But that was a guess. She didn’t know.

“...Rest well?”

Its voice was hollow but terrible. The power it held was immeasurable, but Lallu didn’t show fear. Her instincts drew her body into a low defensive stance. Her arms braced for any action and she turned to look up at her potential aggressor with a deep red glow in her clear eyes. Her instincts were all she had. She couldn’t show fear. Like prey in an open field, vulnerability meant death. She had to be a predator just as much as them. She couldn’t let them win.

“I guess. Would you mind telling me where I am, what happened, and why?” Lallu asked. It was a default set of questions. But she couldn’t think of anything else. Her practicality won over curiosity. But, that didn’t stop her from strengthening her defensive stance and preparing for whatever happened next.

The Sith Empire · January 18, 2017

“You are home, Lallunia Kalemi.”

The accent was matter-of-fact in deliverance, but with a touch of welcome buried in his intonation. The shadow moved closer, but only slightly, so as to simply brush passed a few cloves of plantation. He was elegance personified but fearsome altogether. It could recognize how the female sentient bathed in the fresh and raw power that she had been absent from for quite some time now and now it filled her whole. Her mind however did not seem too sharp, and if that was the case, she was not prepared for what was to come. The Reaper hummed out loud for a moment in deliberation, a simple sound that drummed over the parade outside these walls.

“Do not attempt to fool me Twi’lek. You will not make it far, nor will our Master extend the patience for it. You know what happened. I was watching you.”

At the touch of his last few words, the sound of the chamber door clinched. The cheers started to drown out, the mood fell unfamiliar all too soon. If the female sentient moved her focus from Ghost just once, she would miss the nimble speed that the A.I. possessed. He was now mere feet from her approach, but he held clothes within his clutch for her. He tossed them towards her to cover herself but stared at her in the meanwhile. The harnessed power from Umbara had done wonders to her birth and from simple strands of DNA he had procured from the streets of Coruscant. Her powers would flourish if she so wished it.

“You will meet the why in a few moments, Miss Kalemi. In your current state, I have monitored the control center of your sentient body and more precisely, the function of your orbitofrontal cortex. You are stable for the time being it appears, but I will need to investigate further. Before he arrives, is there more you wish to know?”

Keenava Dira · January 19, 2017

Silence…

It was serene, but it was dangerous. A lot could happen in silence. The shifting of weight, the throwing of a dagger, the hint of a saber as it cleared its sheath. Lallu was used to this. However, she wasn’t used to a large, almost fifteen-foot monster, that moved without making any discernible sound. The only sounds that came from the darkness were growling noises, with the occasional bouts of heavy breathing. But the breathing echoed. The sounds came from all around her. She couldn’t tell where the sounds even came from exactly.

Just when she was about to guess, she felt a tug at her side. Lallu looked over and saw Kana, still chained, looking at her. Her eyes were wide and she looked a little scared. It was to be expected here, but she didn’t have to ham it up for her, even if Lallu did enjoy seeing it.

Lallu, it appears you might need to be at the controls. Mr. Rag face wants to look into your mind. We need to stop him.

Why? What will happen?

Well, other than you, how many people think it's practical to run around with more than one personality in their head?

Huh, astute observation.

See? I’m not just T&A.

Alright, I retract my statement. But there is one thing you forgot…

What’s that?

She heard the flowing of legs as they brushed together. Fate was coming to deliver a fatal blow. She had to be ready. Lallu winced with a focused intensity. She held all her concentration in the breadth of a moment. It was painful, but she kept going. She continued looking at Kana and slowly pushed outward with a brilliant red bubble. And the moment crimson fire bloomed into searing life, a huge figure slammed into it and collapsed to the ground. It was shocking, but Lallu had expected as much. Lallu saw the girth that Kara represented and knew that she needed some degree of preparation. Lallu winced again at the brief collision and very quickly realized that she couldn’t hold the shield in place for long. The fragility of her defenses wouldn’t last. But that didn’t stop her from delaying, so she could afford the time to fix this.

Time to rejoin the waking world.

__________

Lallu registered a small change in mood as she slipped back to full control. The figure she knew before, moved in a legless hover before her. She could feel the temperature drop a degree or so and heard the door latch ever so lightly in the back of her mind. The ragged apparition was moving with quick determination and accusatory remarks. His intonation suggested patronizing sardonicism, but Lallu understood. Her mistake was grave. She thought it was a means to an end, but it was a coward’s way out. She knew this. She hung her head in acknowledgment of her deed. But it was done, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

Furion would be ashamed.

A red gleam lit her eye and she cocked her head ever so slightly. When the specter moved closer, certain details began to click into place one after another. The door was locked and her position of stability was dwindling more and more. The ragged man offered no mercy and no purchase. Lallu was stuck; cornered. Lallu could feel a significant memory flying through her mind like a bullet ripping through her side. It came out of nowhere and crashed into her face. The ragged apparition was replaced by a grungy male zabrak. His appearance was loathsome and unkempt. His scent was unbearable and his bearing was sloppy. But Lallu was tied to the ground. She couldn’t escape the condemnation that hung from the man’s greedy eyes. He saw her black skin like another field of conquest. He saw the rose’s petals and tried to pry them from its sepal.

It was too much. Anger and shame of equal measure lent fuel to her muscles and fed her chaotic desire. She felt her callus-less hands clench violently. The intoxicating surge of power that lit her flame was irresistible. It took every muscle in her body to avoid leaping at the ghost and tearing him limb from limb at the cruel sense of deja vu. Searing rage glowed in her gaze. But she resigned to growling under her breath. She looked at the clothes with contempt and her body began to dilate with reserved frustration. Her tone was scathing but reserved. This was her due and she had to live with it.

“Don’t touch me apparition!” Lallu said a little louder than she intended. She looked at the ghost with stubborn and impotent fire. She figured that his form wasn’t substantial and that any attacks were meaningless, but her impulse drove desperation. She wanted to tear him apart. And yet, she was here for a reason. She had invested a substantial amount of money in coming back from the dead on Talus, so this procedure was not without purpose. The master of this apparition wanted her for… something.

“I am dealing with something and I need more time. Your master may require me. I understand that his attention and time may be valuable. But I must take the time to renew this instability. Let me do so, and you can run whatever tests you need. If you do it now, I guarantee your investment will be wasted. Don’t delve where you shouldn’t or I might do something I will regret.”

Lallu’s tone dropped a little. Echoes of her suicide glared at her and she felt pain for her wasted energy. There was more she could have done. But she hadn’t known. Still, she had time to fix the problem now, before it could escalate into something more serious.

“If you can, please allow me some… time. I need to work something out.”

Exodus · January 24, 2017

Seeds Of Power

The sound of celebration came to a slow and deadened crawl. The temple halls fell quiet with awe and amazement and all the men and women that wandered them stared at just one man. Their mouths dropped and their bodies stiffened to a freeze. He was alive. Exodus marched from the black room with incandescent hieroglyphs tattooed all over his dark skin, exposed brazenly for all to see. The rune-markings looked as if they echoed synonymous with his barbaric heartbeat. The sound and pressure of his presence reminded every soul here of the swelling cadence that was the Great Pantheon. It was vastly alluring, it was majestic, it was absolute power. Exodus could taste the raw emotion that now saturated the brisk air. The sour texture of their fears crawled into his nose and wallowed on his wet tongue. He fed on the delicacies of emotion; the dark side filled him whole. He paid no individual attention to his audience, but nevertheless, they all bowed their heads in reverence.

Exodus fixed his cold verdant gaze on a man who before now, was unseen to all who watched. The prisoner trailed the Sith King on his hands and knees with a broad bracketed chain sealed around his neck which found a leash firmly wrapped around Exodus’ knuckles. His raven locks fell unkempt and shelved itself across his broad shoulders as he stared through his prisoner. The coward never looked up, but could feel the eyes that now laid over him. His unease wrinkled the chains and his nervousness rang a tune that Exodus couldn’t help but to crow over. “Don’t be afraid. You will have your chance.”

- --

The metal slide-door powered open with a sudden sibilance. In a rush, waves of therapeutic aromas vented into the cold halls of the Pantheon; now devoid of the cheer that once filled it. Exodus, with prisoner dragging in tow, entered the room watchfully. The clatter of chains wholly separated the conversation that was before him. “...Miss Kalemi. I present your why-- Dark Lord Exodus.”

The door slammed. The prisoner moaned a language of pain. The lights flickered over a brilliant smile.

[ Incoming Challenge; Seeds of Power ]

Difficulty: Moderate

Summary: Measurement, Contamination, Strife

Character: Lallunia Kallemi

Location: Lallus' Chambers

Risk: TBA

Reward: TBA

Keenava Dira · January 24, 2017

Kriff!

Lallu had no time. She had to improvise. She resolved to split her mental energy. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but if she wanted to overcome her current instability and keep herself afloat with her ‘host’, she needed to figure something out. Splitting her mental power stung the reaches of her mind and clung to the edges of her consciousness. It was an audible hum in her ear nubs that picked at her sanity one inch at a time.

__________________

Her shield was worn and just as it crashed to the floor, Lallu’s thoughts rejoined her metaphysical haven. The beast came in for another blow and Lallu’s metaphysical avatar dropped to the floor, pushing Kana down with her.

‘bout time you showed up princess. Kana said, fear lacing her speech. She was getting restless.

Well, I didn’t have a choice. Lallu retorted, with only half her usual sass.

The beast sniffed as it paced. It circled; its path illusory. The arena was dark. Lallu would have to rely on what senses she could, even inside her own head, to try and fool the-DUCK!

Lallu ducked again and worked in a tumble backward with a small kick at the beast’s center of mass. It was an impulsive move made on the fly. But, the beast had planned for her to duck and crashed on top of her with the full force of its body. The contact was a thunderclap. Lallu’s mind cracked in searing pain and she tried to struggle with herself to abate the wailing force that clung to her conscious thoughts. Yet, the ache was persistent. She wrestled with the beast, but at half capacity, she couldn’t budge the mass on top of her. It seemed hopeless. She couldn’t breathe here, so her lungs weren’t overly important. And her bones weren’t real, though she could hear them creaking and crunching under the beast’s unwavering girth. It was too much.

_________________

Lallu reached for her head as a searing ache stabbed at her right side and scurried all the way down her trembling lekku.

_________________

With a little more wriggling, Lallu found that she could move her right hand. It wasn’t a huge success, but hands were tools. With enough force, Lallu could wriggle free. She pushed with whatever phantom might she could muster and hit a very specific point on the behemoth’s body with abstract precision. The point hesitated for a moment, then responded with a violent recoil of the beasts’ central muscle systems. The beast began to curl up, allowing Lallu space to breathe and squirm her way out.

Lallu smiled little. No use in enjoying the moment when the problem was still evident. The beast came to its feet and was going to retreat to the darkness. But Lallu was quicker. She followed the beast’s wake and prepared a strike. Her foot clipped a point at the beasts’ knee and she followed it with an elbow to the base of the beast’s spine. It reeled around to try and claw at her and Lallu answered, slamming her palm at the bottom of the beast’s chin, pushing with the remainder of her strength. It was all she could afford. This was it. It was either the beast would take her, or she would win. She couldn’t tell. She had to win. But that meant nothing. Luck hadn’t always been in her favor.

When her palm connected, the beast’s form withered and crumbled to the ground. It tried to amble forward using its arms and the muscles in its chest wouldn’t listen. It tried to grab out at Lallu and settled merely for frustrated grumbling.

Lallu’s metaphysical form almost blinked out of existence for a moment, but she was mirthful for her passing victory. Now, time to make it count.

What do you want? Kara said, surly through her prone grievance.

I want to apologize.

Kara’s face was incredulous. She, with effort, turned her face to look at Lallu. You apologize? Why? IS THIS ANOTHER TRICK?!

Lallu could see the fire building in Kara’s eyes. It was fire she knew; fire Lallu had seen countless times. It was her fire. If anything or anyone was going to relate to that fire, it was her.

No. I apologize for throwing you away. I apologize for denying your existence and I apologize for keeping you in the dark. I apologize for discarding you and trying to remove you by killing myself. It wasn’t wise. It wasn’t prudent and it wasn’t the best alternative. But I was scared. I thought I had come so far and, in a way, I have. But I haven’t gone far enough… I have defeated you. Will you come back with us and try to work with me?

Lallu held out her hand for the beast to accept. But there was silence.

The Beast stood, a full fifteen feet tall, and looked square at Lallu. Her expression was something oblique and they stood that way for a few moments. Her hesitation stood on her face. The lack of enthusiasm was measurable, but Kara resigned in a sigh. Her eyes never left Lallu’s and she clasped the smaller hand with only slight reservation. Alright. I will join you.

Relief flooded Lallu’s mind and she settled for allowing herself to return to the real world in order to resolve the more current issue building at her doorstep.

__________________________

The Twi’lek watched as a disheveled prisoner was dragged into her chamber. In front of the prisoner stood a man that Lallu had never met. But his aura was palpable. She could feel his presence as he walked through the hall and it was clear that he was, if not part of this place, then very influenced by its essence or creation. He was the embodiment of a dirge. His theme sang of death and only the soft green of his eyes offered any respite; his eyes, clear and green and his body, artfully strewn with Sith history and power. But his bearing was familiar. Through the mane of dark brown hair, and the mesmerizing emerald gaze, she caught the posture of her former master.

Furion’s bearing stood obviously on this figure’s mantle and something about him seemed distantly familiar.

“Exodus?” Lallu gave voice to the name without thinking. It wasn’t a name she knew much of. Furion had mentioned his former master several times and there were moments that Lallu had seen a shrouded figure accompanying Julio. But she didn’t know him. He was never a part of her life and she hadn’t needed a reason to include him.

Was he the one behind her revival?

Was he the one that brought her here?

Was Furion here?

These questions were swimming near the surface of her mind, ready to be plucked out. She knew, with the energy he held, it would be child’s play. But she knew those questions weren’t what she needed.

She gazed at the door and looked at the room. From the chill, she surmised that Exodus’ presence or the presence of the prisoner had changed the atmosphere of her cell. She was boxed in so there was no hope of escaping this moment. And with no other questions to ask or motions to make, she felt that her options were quite limited.

She stabilized her stance and took both newcomers in her gaze. She focused on Exodus but left the prisoner in her peripheral vision. She couldn’t trust them yet. That was certain. But could she trust them at all? That had yet to be determined.

Dark Lord… Hmm, maybe I should bow.

Lallu bowed a little, as a formality and not a mocking gesture. She was still nude, so the gesture might have seemed a little garish. But the intention was genuine.

“Dark Lord Exodus, I presume you already know my name. What is it you need from me?”

There was no beating around the bush. She would not subjugate herself or beg to him. But why else would he bring her here? Why else would he bring anyone else here unless he needed them for something? Sith were notoriously self-centered. It was what Lallu came to expect.

Exodus · January 24, 2017

First Act

“... I need you to be strong.”

A devilish smile danced across his fair features. He tapped his temple three times as he spoke the words with impeccable preciseness. She would know just what he meant. The temptation to read and ravish her mind remained under control for now, but her distraction was obvious to a master of the senses. She still stood not far from where she fell, her soft skin still uncovered and her mercurial emotion was not masked from the monsters that walked the halls. Amogmar was unquestionably somewhere nearby, drooling and unhinged as usual whenever there was fresh blood for him to spill. Exodus loosened his cinch on the callous chain and let it fall onto the floors beneath his feet.

His prisoner twitched, lifted his head a half an inch, and scratched viciously at his own neck. His nails were black, chipped and misaligned for the most part but it did not stop his itch one bit. His hair was a knotted clutter of unwashed white that hid his animalistic facial lineaments. His mannerisms were sporadic and kept to a minimal when the chain was inside the hand of Exodus, but as it fell, his anorexic frame shuddered alive. He whimpered as he breathed out with almost every exhale, followed by a hoarse hem and cough to suit. Exodus left his vision locked with the Twi’lek, his high-handed leer still in check. His runic scars bled with vivid color, she could feel his power because he allowed it. She could smell the fire of Furion and the Mountain that it poured from was Exodus in the flesh.

“Our friend is famished dear Lallu’. He has drank from the well of the Dark Side deliriously and allowed it to devour his most basic functions in return.” The unchained prisoner chuckled loud and awkwardly at the sound of his own demise. “He knows no restraint. None whatsoever. He will hack the flesh from your bones and drink your fear as he does it.”

Exodus bent at the knee while his rich white and aurelian robe pooled at the floor. With a wave of his hand across the neck of his prisoner, the buckle around his neck came apart mid-float. The screws and the brace tumbled in suspended air, and then fell gracelessly into the dirt and vegetation beneath. Exodus rose to full stature, and lifted that same hand into the air as if an orchestra was at the ready. Unnoticeably, a small amount of open-faced carnivorous plants literally breathed and heaved a strange miasma into the atmosphere. Ghost was nowhere to be seen, and Exodus stood eerily still with his hand by his side once more.

He looked towards the prisoner one last time, "Stix. Your family forgives your strange appetite. They gave word at the Pantheon, old friend. There is nothing left of them to eat. They are dead, but there is someone before you now..."

Exodus now squinted towards the Twi'Lek, curious as to the emotion she would emit from what she had just learned. “He was a friend of mine. Kill him.”

Stix scuttled the floor in rapid motion and belted a roar that was impossible for his small frame to produce; his swell in the dark side of the force was not to be underestimated. The boisterous rumble shook the enclosed arena with a deep and sickening crack. He was fast and unpredictable in his motions, almost too fleet of feet and hands while erratic as he inched closer to his meal. In unorthodox fashion, Stix launched himself with manic elation towards the Twi’Lek and the second he did so, Lallu would feel an unnatural force trying to pull her in the sick gluttons’ reach. His filthly claws were ready to bury themselves into her skin. “..MMMIINEEE!”

--

(OOC: Stix is a Sith Master who fell from grace. Highly proficient in hand-to-hand combat and his use of the force aids him particularly in that area alone. He was too bent on his hunger for more and lost control of how far he could go before his mind was ready, overly eager and unprepared. Thus, his mind was consumed and was reduced over time to the basic functions of; Fight. Kill. Eat. Survive.

He no longer fights at the level of Master, only because he has no proper bearing over himself and his tact has completely disappeared. He was a friend of Exodus' and had a family. He held them hostage and buried himself in the immersion of the dark side until knowledge and ambition was no longer the focal point. He devoured them whole and left the bones to a ritual to bring them back with a power he wished to have but never would.

He was left to fend for himself in the Halls far from Pantheon and this is his first return home. Lallu will need to crush him to survive. The miasma that is bleeding into the air is highly dehabilitating (paranoia, loss of focus and will develop into vomiting and skin opening up in the fashion of puss-filled blisters. Exodus is unaffected for reasons identified in his past.)

Keenava Dira · January 25, 2017

“... I need you to be strong.”

Why?

Hunger…

Lallu could see his face shrivel away at his captor’s touch. The man had nothing left. He had eaten, killed and destroyed everything close to him. He was nothing but a bag of flesh that scuttled behind his master. Lallu could sympathize. It wasn’t a glorious life. It wasn’t a fortunate life. It was. Life.

There were compromises; compromises that could ease the suffering. Yet, in the end, hunger and need demanded sacrifice. The dark side fed this need with insatiability, thus continuing the destructive cycle. Death, resignation and expiration were inevitable.

“Our friend is famished dear Lallu’. He has drunk from the well of the Dark Side deliriously and allowed it to devour his most basic functions in return.” The unchained prisoner chuckled loud and awkwardly at the sound of his own demise. “He knows no restraint. None whatsoever. He will hack the flesh from your bones and drink your fear as he does it.”

Lallu felt unease at her own flesh. Like a mask that stretched over the sins of her past, it taunted her with its purity. She couldn’t escape the discomfort that her smooth skin fed into her roaming consciousness. It was almost unconscionable. But this skin was hers. It may have been abhorrent to some degree, but it wasn’t a gift she would easily shirk. Even in the torturous milieu of her environ, she clung to what comfort she could find.

She would fight.

Her resolve solidified. As it did, her mind started to sag. The change was almost imperceptible. Her thoughts grew in number and her body started to revolt violently. Pain receptors that were fresh, began to signal from across her body. Blisters brewed just under the surface of her obsidian. And she could feel her stomach wrench as if she were standing on a starship that suffered severe turbulence. Her balance was threatened and her head began to swim. The feelings she suffered were tremendously sensitive and the stimuli were a bit more potent than Lallu was used to. It was mentally and physically taxing to keep herself stable, but she fought to stand. She wasn’t weak. She would show them.

Hot tears leapt to her face. Voices, unbidden and powerful in the dark, began to echo all around her. Her emotional defenses were pierced. Everything was magnified. Everything was new…

- The cloying stench of wretched desire hung in the air of the musty cell. A body was wrung on the floor, shackled to the stone. The body was open; bare; filthy. And two aliens stood about the body, fighting. Arguing…
  - Give me a try, you fat lard!

One of the aliens clawed at a tentacle protrusion from the body’s head. Pawing at it like a voracious predator, inches from its meal.

This lek-rat is fresh…

The larger of the two aliens, a pig-like creature, looked at the other with contempt. He wrenched the body from the ground, slapping it to the stone once more with a meaty crunch.

LET ME FINISH!

They give us the best scraps…

Says you, I hate seconds. These schutta are barely worth five seconds.

Then go away. More for me…

No, they are ours and we will have our share.

They deliberated. They conversed. It felt run-of the mill. Their words fell on deaf ears. They were the shadows in the dark that preyed on innocence. But such was the fate of those in this hell. This was their lot. This was their purpose. They were tools… No. They were refuse. They were waste.

This one likes to scream.

How do you know?

Just watch.

Pain; searing crimson shot through Lallu’s mind. Paranoia met suspicion and ran straight on to blaring madness. Her body trembled. Her mind shook. All that time she built everything up. But her scars were gone. Her tattoos were gone. Everything was gone. Everyone was gone. Even Furion had left. AGAIN.

She was alone; terribly alone. Furion. Rose. Veridiana. Seela. Kheldar. Jzora. All of them.

Lallu’s tears started to streak violently across her face. A cocktail of emotions began to wring her mind as everything rose to a cacophonous crescendo. Lallu almost felt her entire body shut down when the writhing pile of need leapt into the air and shot toward her like a frail, mutilated projectile. His scream was primal and his desire was overwhelming. Lallu could feel her entire world coming to a single point of pressure, building and drawing her near. But just as she started to doubt; just as she accepted her impending threat, the entire moment started to slow. Everything in her mind dimmed. The searing pain she felt and the misery that accented it; the malaise she felt and the gut wrenching feeling that followed that. Everything froze. Even the imp, in his foolish desires was almost unmoving, floating in the air.

Everything was frozen in perfect clarity.

The source wasn’t easy to discern from her position. With her emotions silenced and her body temporarily maintained, she could see the situation for what it was. The frothing imp, jumping into the fray without a second thought. It was foolish.

Exactly…

The voice was cold and came from all around her.

What?

This entire moment is foolish. Your suicide was foolish, his deeds are foolish and his needs are foolish. Said Kava. Her form, in all its terrifying beauty, grew from a nearby wall. Her head, accented with tendrils of shadow. Her eyes, hollow and glowing with a bright blue fire. Her entire visage of vague feminine lethality shone like a lucid hologram.

Kava?

Yes

What are you doing here? How?

She seemed almost insulted. I am here to save you. Or should I say, I am here to save me. I am part of you. And thus, if you expire, I must meet that unfortunate end as well.

But what about the others?

They lack my expertise. Her sanctimonious sneer reminded Lallu of Furion. But she disregarded the memory. It was a distraction.

Alright. What is going on? Why do I feel this way?

Why do you think?

Lallu started to grouse at being given a question in response to her question. But figured that whatever was happening could be reversed just as quickly. So, she got to work. She looked around feverishly: she saw the plants clinging to the floor and the walls; she saw the trio of deadly men in her cell; she saw the urn that she had come out of; and she saw a faint mist that lingered in the air. That mist hadn’t been there before.

Lallu looked at the floor again and noticed that, small plants at the base of Exodus’ feet, had opened up and were releasing a mist into the air.

The mist!

Kava nodded her head, smiling. Yes.

It was designed to distract you, to preoccupy your mind. But Exodus is merely trying to gauge your abilities. Will you kill when ordered to do so? Can you think under pressure? Can you act when you need to? Even when you are under the influence of a drug?

Why?

He wants to see your strength and what is needed to make you stronger.

Right. He said that.

But did you catch it?

What?

His stench?

What?

Ugh. His power signature. It was a goad. He wanted you to marvel.

Ah, Furion did something similar.

Yes, he did. But did you catch the underlying tones of this man’s power?

Exodus?

Yes. This husk of a man is not what he once was. I would not underestimate him, because his strength will defy expectations. But the gas is intended to give him a chance. He is not intended as a true measure of power. Exodus however, is of Umbara.

You sure?

Yes. I was made there. I answered the call of your need. I answered when your will was very much the same as Stix’s here. There I made a stand and picked you up out of the mud. You would be there still if it weren’t for my creation. The bonfire you made of their corpses smelled like he does now. Exodus is a terrible power and not one to challenge lightly.

As to the quandary at hand, we will speak of your misdeeds later. At length. For now, follow my instruction. I am here to mitigate your mental needs. Any longer, and your aggressive side would have exploded and torn the room apart with varying degrees of success and failure. But there are a few things you need to observe before flying off the handle.

Kava drifted to where the imp was moving through the air and pointed to pieces of his body, using his anatomy as a visceral example for her explanation.

She pointed at his neck. It was worn and frail. It was thin and stung of ages without sustenance.

This, is a point of vulnerability. His shackles were only recently cut, which means the strength to his neck and wrists hasn’t yet returned. It will if you wait too long. But if you act quickly, you can cut him down before he has a chance to make you regret it. These, Kava moved her hands from the man’s neck, to his nails and teeth, you need to avoid. If they contact you, they will slash and rend. They will tear the flesh from your body. You must stay vigilant and keep moving. Either that, or cling to him and don't let him move. If you feel sick, which you will, use it to your advantage. Vomit on him, and move around.

Feel sick?

You felt it right, the wrenching of your stomach? I’m not quite sure what mist this is, but it is causing that. It is causing all of this. Because, despite popular opinion, you have more control of your body than this.

Popular opinion?

FOCUS!

Right… What do I do about the visions? And the pain? It was blinding and overwhelming.

Lallu. Kava’s voice changed. It held some gentle veneer over her cold pragmatism. Her cold blue eyes shone with a glint of gold and looked deeply into her mind. You have the power to channel that. You always have. It’s here. Kava pointed at Lallu’s head and heart. We are here. You are here. You have been through much. You make rash and stupid decisions, yes. But you have grown. It will show. A word to the wise however. Do not abuse the force. One who feeds on the force like he has, will likely drain whatever projection you make.

Be ready…

Lallu took a deep breath and pushed herself to standing. She held lightly on the balls of her feet. When reality came crashing back into cruel violent hues of red and orange, Lallu’s vision crossed in pain. She took a deep breath. She pushed her mind to ease with a cold, forceful hand, charging what power she could into her legs. Her mind was set. Her will was uncomfortably focused among the chaos of her screaming nerves. Then, with the imp drawing close - swift voracious need coloring his eyes - she snapped her leg up, and contacted the being’s neck. She made no effort to push telekinesis with the blow. She simply imbued her muscles with the energy of her pain and virulence. She channeled what she could to bring her attack to a critical conclusion.

The force of her dancer muscles and her own terrible pain mixed into a gunshot of violence that collided with decent accuracy. She made no time to parade with success. This wasn’t a show. This wasn’t an exhibition. Her job was to kill.

His arms would shoot out at her in attempts to grasp and defend. He was a capable fighter. This much Lallu could see. But his arms wouldn’t budge. He would try to defend against the crushing blow to his neck by grabbing onto her leg. But she had taken hold of each of his arms at the wrist. And with vice-like ferocity she held and wouldn’t release them. She made a swift snapping motion with both wrists, counting that their weakness would end in her favor. She wasn’t going to give in. She wasn’t going to fall. Not here...

They wouldn’t do this to her again. She would persevere. She would push past expectation. She had made it this far.

Sickness caught up to her and added fire to her efforts. But she couldn’t hold in her waste any longer. Sickly hot refuse poured from her and onto the beast’s face.

Paranoid thoughts fought to the surface of her mind as the beast’s fingers clawed at her skin. She could feel his energy attempting to drain her own. But she worked in equal fervor. She used enough energy to keep herself mobile. She used enough energy to keep herself stable and did what she could to deny him purchase internally and externally. It was a struggle to push past his need. But hers was stronger.

You will die… I will kill you…

Exodus · January 26, 2017

The kick embedded into the neck of the former Sith prince with almost literal breakneck precision. The pain stormed into his bones but there was no signs of that in his expression. The dark fuel inside of him ate it whole and he smiled at last with rotten teeth and bleeding gums, taunting the woman before him. The power he possessed laced his frail chassis into an iron shell. “My daughter hit harder than that!” He reached out just as fast in hopes to feel her flesh between his fingers but to no avail; his wrists snapped like twigs and released a manifold of agony.

That was a mistake.

Another roar broke out, this one louder, this one would rupture her auditory senses and spill blood from her ears. The thunderous octave was enmeshed in the ancient force and shattered her mind and her focus. She had no choice but to release her hold on him. He collapsed to the floor in a frenzied panic. “No! No! No!” Saliva loosened from his perverse lips, drool trailed his sadistic face, and then the room exploded. He kept his panicked screams as wild as an untamed rancor and then streaks of electric white rampaged in every which direction. The primal electrons ripped across the chamber; the widespread greenery began to burst open individually in full flume and clouded the air with toxins in shrouds while the thicker vines were smacked and lit aflame. The white claws of voltage ripped into the air and shot across towards the Twi’lek in unpredictable waves; an eruption that set asunder with complete violence.

Exodus didn’t move a muscle however; bullets and streams of electricity dissipated and fizzed to nothing within a foot of where he stood.

What chance did the naked Twi’lek have? Stix commanded the thick braids of white current to unleash and spread as fierce as wildfire. In his panic he let the room fill whole while his limp hands retained zero control. The dark side channeled through him rebelliously, the lashes of energy that would tear and burn her skin flew like a thousand knives in every direction. Footwork alone would not save her. Stix scampered all over over the floor in random directions, back and forth and side to side. He froze amidst the clear storm and opened his mouth to the heavens. A manic cackle left him and then an eruption of creatures fluttered from his throat. Swarms of small vermin or beetles leapt forth and honed in on the woman. Spills of them streamed towards her, their attraction was to feed on the one who threatened to best their host. The candles placed around the spacious chamber started to douse and shed more darkness. The overhead bulb flickered off no sooner and eclipsed the arena. The urn remained unscathed, the sac in which Lallunia had been birth was enkindled, and the room was haunted with pockets of flame and darkness united.

“... I can see you Kara. Will your sisters come out and play?" Exodus' voice slithered into the mind of the Twi'lek, a dreadful and mischievous tone echoed in her mind as her focus dwindled.

Keenava Dira · January 27, 2017

His retort was meaningless; childlike prattle.

His thoughts were meaningless; desperate aspirations.

His opinions were meaningless; gallows musings.

A quagmire of sweat lay on her ebony skin. The harsh stone bit at her naked feet. Her callus-less hands, marred with blood, opened and closed impulsively. She could feel fatigue mingling with the malaise that threatened to consume her. Her resolve hadn’t faded. Lallu knew she hadn’t won yet. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t cocky. She was disappointed that her best strategy hadn’t worked. She needed to push harder. Lallu strengthened her resolve amidst nausea and pain, emboldened to try another assault.

Stix, after his wrists, plopped to the ground like a frail mop. He scuttled with panicked grace like an idiotic crustacean. But his roar was a surprise that shook Lallu’s consciousness. Her mind shot white hot, with rails of pain to join the league of other sensations rallying for superiority. Razors struck through the fragile skin of her ear nubs at his shriek and the dissonant sound was cruel as it echoed evermore through her mind. It was a terrified scream; a panicked scream; a passionate scream; a scream that meant to curdle blood. It was enhanced through the force. The dark signature that lingered in the note was present throughout his intonation. In the end, it tried and succeeded in ravaging her auditory nerves. Blood dripped from her ear nubs, and the world, that ironically bloomed in a riot of color, went quiet.

Lallu couldn’t hear the cackle. She didn’t catch the flailing of his hands or the panicked attempts of a foolish man as he knocked at death’s door. But she felt an arc of pain that cracked against her face. Pure streams of white light emitted from the crazy impish man’s broken hands, and although he seemed to maintain control, the arcs ran everywhere. They burst open powder, gas, fog and mist. The sheer visual and mental display were boggling. The lightning stung her haunted skin with surges of energy; scalding and scoring her complexion, accenting the welts and blisters. Lallu had prepared her body for attacking Stix. She had started draining the force from her surroundings to counteract Stix’s own draining capabilities. The lightning was too much. Overwhelming power singed her skin and set her body a whirl with potential.

Pain.

- Anger.

- - Suffering.

- Hate.

- Sorrow.

- - Fear.

Sickness.

- Need.

- - - Hunger.

Passion.

- - - - Everything.

All her feeling and power culminated into a blanket of needles that pressed into her one inch at a time. Each step was closer to even more sensation. Each phase washed over her with waves of immense escalation. She felt so much that she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Her mind was overstimulated and she couldn’t think straight.

Bugs were swarming from his mouth and streaming toward her. Their pincers evinced impending pain. And the promise of even more stimuli was enough to push her over the edge.

Lallu…

Lallu had to do something. Lallu. Had. To. Let. Her. Thoughts. OUT!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The shriek was loud and accented Stix’s own bellowing roar. For a moment, they even harmonized.

With the fire, she disappeared. And at her disappearance, the lights burned out. Only lingering flames remained.

Her body was so suffused with the dark side, that she couldn’t think. Everything leaped to her fingertips. Possibilities were endless. Lallu’s mind was a puddle. It was formless. She couldn’t put shape to any plans because she was still reeling from the consequences that she already suffered.

To the mundane eye, Lallu’s body had embraced the darkness. To the force trained eye, Lallu’s body had copied itself over twenty times and the mimics stood in the lightning’s echo, all around the room. Each silhouette stood at different points where the lightning had been only moments before.

Distinct; faint. The temperature began to drop…

The sound of Stix’s scream was muted with passing moments. The decibel value slowly dropped as the speed of sound escaping through his lungs was slowing.

Bit by bit, degree by degree.

The vines that still lay verdant on the ground, wrapped around the imp’s feet, keeping him in one spot…

Lashing him to the ground.

A voice, cold and clear, echoed through the room from all angles.

It was:

breathy,

- misty,

- - harsh,

- - - and slow.

It spoke with a sing-song cadence and repeated over and over:

“Stix and stones may break my bones,

But worms will never flay me.”

Blue fire speckled the pitch black and moved silently, winking out and appearing at another part of the room, inexplicably.

The room dropped to freezing temperature.

The flying insects that attempted their mischievous assault, began to crunch and pop in the cold.

Viscera spread to the ground, freezing upon contact with the stone.

Frigid air suffocated the building flames. All was velvety black now.

The sound of Stix’s scream was a coarse wheeze.

“Stix and stones may break bones,

But worms will never flay me…”

My only mistake was not killing you sooner.

I won’t make that mistake again.

Temperature tumbled lower than single digits, alluding to Ilum’s frigid tundra. Stix’s skin began to crack and harden. He would flail and desperately try to warm himself with the dark side. But his breath would be stiff -- his oxygen robbed from his lungs. He would have to choose: Breath, or warmth.

Lallu stood on numbed feet. Her mind was consumed with plumes of shadow and she looked down on Stix with cruel eyes. His limbs started to fracture and break under the weight of his own indecision. He was desperate and irrationally wailing. His screams were mute. His eyes were flickering and his saliva shattered; ice on the ground. Still, the temperature tiptoed lower, one step at a time.

“I don’t know if you heard me before. So I will say it again. YOU will die. And I WILL kill you.” Lallu said. Her eyes lit with an azure flame and her arms crashed down toward Stix’s exposed spine. The brittle bones met with harsh fists that slammed into his back like icepicks, tearing each vertebra from its resting place and rendering Stix a motionless lump on the ground.

Then, with hardened hands, Lallu held the greasy back of Stix’s head and tore it from his shoulders. His neck cracked with icy resistance. His skin was frozen. His muscles were frozen. His rebellion had ended. And his body was flesh on the ground.

Without a word, Lallu took his head and shattered it on the stone floor. At this point, the power bleeding through her would not reach him. His desire was coldly refused and his life cut with cruel scissors. Atropos stood at Lallu’s shoulder and held the string, cut down the middle, in her frail hands. Stix’s final moment had played. He was, no more.

Lallu crossed the room. The silence was her victory. She thawed the urn with a touch and dropped herself into the healing liquid. She doused her feelings and felt herself return to some level of normalcy. Her blood filled the liquid with malaise and it shone on the surface. But she could drown the moment out. She could find some measure of peace.

_____________________

“... I can see you, Kara. Will your sisters come out and play?" Exodus' voice slithered into the mind of the Twi'lek, a dreadful and mischievous tone echoed in her mind as her focus dwindled.

Kana sat leisurely in the cavern of Lallu’s central control. She could see what transpired through Lallu’s eyes and was transfixed by the event. When Exodus’ voice pierced through the darkness of the chamber, Kana shot straight up from her chair and looked around.

Kara stood right beside her, looking up into the shadows. She couldn’t figure out his game or why he wanted to talk to them. But his tone intrigued her. Play?

“My sisters are here, mostly. Kava was summoned, but she will return. What play do you speak of?” Kara said inquisitively.

Kana was curious as well, but let her thoughts remain silent for the moment.

Exodus · January 30, 2017

Such a bitter atmosphere had taken over the once tranquil expanse; a cold mien and the spill of blood and death spun the room in a carousel. The known dance of life and destruction was spread at all ends of the chamber. Colorful liveliness was now white with unembellished frost. Exodus could feel the difference scar across his skin, the brisk air permeated his vicious blood. The facial expressions of the Dark Lord was mute and remained disimpassioned as he watched it all unfold.

“You will learn Kava, in time.”

Minutes passed as the Twi’lek soaked her wounds and drowned in the place she found her peace, but peace was a lie. Outside of her control, her skin would feel the touch of the cold anew. In slow measure, the draw of her five foot seven frame was peeled without remorse from the urn and lifted into a full float. Exodus commanded the force and the slave adhered to his sovereign touch, wrenching the woman towards where he stood from the cistern.

The two of them were now face to face.

His cool temperate breath washed over her. The flourish of his viridescent irises drove into her soul and the rubies that were hers. He remained still but searched her whole as

she was suspended before him. He studied her as a hound would sniff out their mark before teeth minced either feast or foe.

“You are here because I willed it so. I am the blood inside of Furion, just as he is the blood inside of you. This kinship of power is unmistakeable and unequaled.”

The blood of Stix emptied itself in pools, a dark black liquid hemmed inside of it.

“You are here to learn, and to survive the decline of this Order. There are the fools of this brotherhood that would claim power with their caste, but break no sweat or tears to earn it. You will earn yours, and you will be relentless in doing so.”

Her swells and abscess were licked with powerful ointment and would suppress themselves forthwith. The life inside the room was no more, and the slumped carcass of Stix was evidence to the painted picture. The cold retreated slow, and Exodus lowered the woman and allowed her feet proper placement.

“First. I will burn the brain inside of that skull if you ever lose your control again. I will kill you where you stand, and erase them forever.” The tension never left, and was alive more than ever.

“You have a Gift. The three of them. Each of them are pieces of you, this you know. Yet, it will do you no good to rely on them, they cannot fight your battles for you. Use them, nourish them, but control them with an iron fist. You will fight, and they will be your weapons. As he spoke, his hand displayed the mess all around them, reiterating what her weapons could move her to do rather than have them do it in her place.

“...Her art is brilliant and efficient, the one who did this. You must invoke her, not out of fright but out of power, and that is the difference. Do you understand Twi’lek?”

Keenava Dira · February 1, 2017

The abscess of power had grown to intolerable levels. Lallu was bleeding power. Like a dam that was filled to bursting, she could not withhold the massive structure that threatened her mind. Kava was a boon, but Lallu couldn’t hold anything in. She attempted to quell the defensive countermeasure she used, to stem the tide of power. But the damage was done. The urn – temporary haven – was not an end. It was just a conduit for her brief episode; a crude respite. There, she could be alone with her thoughts. There, she could see what she needed to see and hear what she needed to hear.

_____

Lallu, you need to calm down.

KAVA I FEEL EVERYTHING. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. Lallu’s head was throbbing. Her metaphysical form was searing with a massive aura of dark tendrils.

The others gathered around her cautiously and tried to help in any way they could. None of them knew what was happening. None of them knew what to do. This type of thing had never happened before. The energy equivalent of a small, dark, nova had built deep inside her. Her body and eyes were pouring with dark side power. It was eating at her. Her newly formed skin threatened to burst. She did her best to keep the scarring and tearing at bay with the pool of healing liquid that surrounded her.

I have a crazy idea!

NOT NOW KANA…

It doesn’t involve sex… Well… Not really.

Lallu’s penetrating glance was enhanced through the fire that streamed from her eyes.

It doesn’t, I swear. Everyone, come here.

All the metaphysical bodies met in a circle.

Now, all of us put our hands together, and focus our energies into one.

WAIT, WHAT?

Lallu, stop yelling, we’re right here.

I CAN’T HELP IT

Okay, that’s getting annoying. Anyway, I don’t know what this will do, but it remains one of two current options that I know of, and the other option is a bit extreme. So, rather than letting your power out into the urn and potentially exploding it, which seems needlessly destructive, this gives us a chance to do something new.

Kana had a point. What were the risks?

There were always risks.

BLOODY HELL, LET’S DO IT!

Kana rolled her eyes. Her exasperation was evident. But the current milieu begged no question. Together, the mental figments interlocked their hands and focused on each other. They focused hard on dispensing the power equally between all of them.

For a moment, it even worked.

Lallu could feel the overwhelming power leave her and then surge into another. It was a euphoric release that sent her reeling with deprivation. Yet, as the power went into another, it kept going. Like an avalanche, the effect never seemed to cease its forward momentum. Once it started, it didn’t stop. It continued to accelerate with every transfer. When it completed a full circuit, it went around again and again and again. It shot like a fireball through the ring of hands and made a circle of powerful energy that exploded, knocking the figures to the ‘ground’ of her mind.

The force of the mental explosion was immense and threatened to knock Lallu’s physical form into a comatose state. Instead, a few conduits that flowed through different parts of her brain were unlocked. Sluice gates were opened in the dam of her mind to allow the power to empty to other regions of her psyche. It was a defense mechanism that helped to release the painful excess. But the absence of power left a hole behind, which fed aftereffects and echoes into her central cerebral chamber. The caustic remains of the explosion stood as a fog that Lallu’s mind couldn’t reliably pierce.

The final rock was pushed. The final hurdle had been achieved. The final lock had been broken.

Bonds that were tightened; bonds that had stood the test of time, broke under the weight of the explosion. Memories that were held deep inside, began to flood outward and stamp themselves onto Lallu’s vulnerable mind. A bright light preceded them. A light that took hold and pushed the fog away. It was blinding clarity and sang to the tune of one of Lallu’s oldest memories… One of Lallu’s oldest moments. A moment that she had hidden from herself for years.

- Veridiana Ootunavi lay across a ruffled bed of white, which was deemed an ironic badge of purity and innocence with a humorous guffaw. The hut that surrounded them was of modest design, and the midwife that had performed the delivery was nearby, making sure that everything was alright. Veridiana cradled a bundle of obsidian in her arms. The bundle squirmed incessantly and cried at the sudden light. New life resisted its place, but Veridiana smiled. It was a girl.
  
  Feenak Tokavi stood over his wife, watching as the baby was delivered. It was a miracle that everything had gone as planned. Feenak owed the Black Sun one hundred credits and had to pay it back before the end of the week. It was a difficult dependency. Still, he managed to stay afloat so far.
  
  Veridiana looked upon her newborn with a warm smile. She knew her baby would live to do amazing things. She would be an amazing person and live up to an amazing potential. But something in her wasn’t sure. Some part of her felt a cold chill creep down her back side. Some part of her could see something dark and terrible in the little one’s future. But that was a feeling for another time. For now, it was time to celebrate. She took a deep breath and considered those little ruby eyes that shone in the crude light of their little house.
  
  “I’ll call you, Keenava.”

The thought was like an icepick to her brain…

The question, who am I? Had never been so clearly answered.

She had forgotten her own name. The memories of her family had been so far gone that she had only remembered her father’s legacy because it was marked on the vengeance she wanted to impart upon him some day.

Keenava…

The name rolled off her tongue like an unfamiliar tune. But there was warmth to it.

- “Keenava! Come back!”
  
  A little black-purple twi’lek chased after one of ebony through a small subterranean city. They were chasing a ball that had roamed too far and was causing a fuss among the locals. A few old men had stumbled over the ball as it meandered its way through the street. When the black-purple one had caught up, the ebony Twi’lek was trying to wrestle the ball away from a moderately sized animal.
  
  “Keenava! Let the rycrit have it. It’s not worth the trouble.” The black-purple Twi’lek said, trying to pry the other off the ball.
  
  “Seela! It’s our only toy. I’m not going to give it up,” the little ebony Twi’lek snarled. Her eyes glowed a little and sparked some fire on the herd animal’s shoulder, frightening it and causing it to run away.
  
  The ebony Twi’lek smiled at her success and the two of them continued to play. At least, until their father came home.

Lall- or Keenava’s mind stirred. She could feel each memory returning like she was waking from a long sleep. She felt complete. Whole. She thought she was whole before. That she had completed some big piece of her. But this; this was something else.

- Feenak’s hands slid down her side. Keenava could feel her eyes probing him in earnest. Her mind called out to his with distressed curiosity.
  
  Daddy, why?
  
  But he was distant. His mind was numb; addled. Drugs guided his hands to dark deeds.
  
  They were alone. And every second seemed to tick by like it was a minute. Every minute, like an hour.
  
  Keenava tried to leave, but he wouldn’t let her. She tried to scream, but her mouth was covered.

A stream of fresh tears lit Keenava’s face. She remembered. She remembered it all.

She even remembered his face when he let her go. When the time came.

- “You can’t! You just can’t! How much do you owe them!?!” Veridiana said, panic in her features.
  
  “Forty-thousand credits,” Feenak said, trying desperately to move the conversation.
  
  “What?! How do you owe them forty-thousand credits?” Veridiana continued, pitching her voice into a scream.
  
  “That’s not important! Give me the girl!” Feenak said with fiendish desperation.
  
  Seela screamed incessantly. She tried to free herself from her father’s grasp, but she failed miserably. She was six years old, covered in tears, and her lekku were still growing in.
  
  Keenava stepped up to the three of them and looked her father square in the eye. She knew what was happening. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to bite into him and watch him bleed. But she wanted her sister to live a normal life. She didn’t want her sister to suffer force only knows because her father couldn’t control his gambling debt. How bad could it be, right?
  
  “I’ll go.”Condemning herself to a life of slavery. Two words was all it took.
  
  Feenak looked back at Keenava and shook his head. His eyes suggested their bond and the twisted weight it carried. But Keenava didn’t relent. Her eyes said, if you don’t take me, I will tell them. I will let them know everything you’ve done and I will show them all your secrets.
  
  Feenak sighed and released Seela. He looked at Keenava with an expression that seemed a crude second cousin to remorse. His mind was tainted by need and he couldn’t see his daughters. He could only see marketable assets.

Lallu wake up!

Her metaphysical form was being shaken and although she hadn’t meant to do so, she had briefly fallen unconscious. Kana was shaking her. And the others were standing around her.

What happened? Keenava asked.

Well, after the explosion we all had to gather our bearings. It appears that the explosion had a huge impact on your mind. Kava said, a matter-of-fact tone to her voice.

Yeah, Lal- Kana started and then her expression changed. The others noticed it too.

Your name isn’t Lallu. She said, after a moment or two of silence.

No. Keenava answered. It isn’t. And I am only just now realizing it.

Wow… That was quite an experience then. Glad I thought of it. Kana said, smiling and taking credit for something that was clearly an accident.

Keenava shook her head and smiled.

Something felt different, though. She couldn’t quite place it. Each manifestation of her psyche was basically the same: Kana, Kava, and Kara. But they all mimicked her movement. They each channeled her actions and mocked her body language perfectly as if they were a lot closer to her than they had been before.

Hey, I want to try something.

Keenava reached up and popped herself in the face. As a figment, she couldn’t really feel pain, and neither could the others. But, as she watched, they all reached up and popped themselves in the face at virtually the same pace and time.

Interesting.

The others noticed too. Just in time for Keenava to be dragged from her inner monolog and back into the waking world.

____

Keenava was dragged from the urn, wet and cold, to face Exodus. His eyes were emeralds. His face was cold, immutable and pale. He was upset. But he held his impatience close to his chest.

Kava’s words of warning echoed in her mind. But she needed little guidance to see that this figure was not to be trifled with.

His words echoed with a commanding presence and he held himself regal even in this room of dark and dank. It was an interesting dichotomy, but the added ambiance brooked no trepidation. She could feel the energy pouring off him. And now that she had released her excess, she could no longer feel the energy swelling inside of her. She still had power where she willed it, but it wasn’t bleeding from her skin now.

Exodus used some power of his, mixed with the liquid she was soaking in, to tend her wounds. The welts, blisters, and scrapes were mending and sealing back up to how they were before the fight. She could feel it happening with sickening awareness. And, in the end, everything was fine. Except... When she had regained motor control, Keenava could feel scars on the center of her back right below her neck. After careful examination, she realized that the scars were recent and that they weren’t going to heal. There were three of them: the top scar was in the shape of a straight vertical line, the second scar was in the shape of a ‘V’, and the third scar was in the shape of three slashed lines angled to the right.

What?

She continued to listen to Exodus, refusing to focus on the scars, but putting them on a back-burner somewhere to be considered later.

“First. I will burn the brain inside of that skull if you ever lose your control again. I will kill you where you stand, and erase them forever.” The tension never left and was alive more than ever.

Where have I heard that before? Keenava wondered rhetorically. She could hear the inner thoughts of her former master echoing, ‘strike her down’ in her head. The thought of death had hardly coaxed her into anything.

“You have a Gift. The three of them. Each of them are pieces of you, this you know. Yet, it will do you no good to rely on them, they cannot fight your battles for you. Use them, nourish them, but control them with an iron fist. You will fight, and they will be your weapons. As he spoke, his hand displayed the mess all around them, reiterating what her weapons could move her to do rather than have them do it in her place.

Sometimes it felt more like a curse. But she was beginning to understand more about them. Keenava had more familiarity with them than she did before. It was somehow, different, now.

“...Her art is brilliant and efficient, the one who did this. You must invoke her, not out of fright but out of power, and that is the difference. Do you understand Twi’lek?”

The word Twi’lek stung her. Names like: Lek-rat, Tenty, waste, schutta, refuse, and the like were commonly used to describe her when she was nothing but flesh. But, she had a name now. And that refusal to acknowledge her identity was deliberately spitting on everything she had achieved up to this point. Maybe that was the point, but a brief flash of Kara’s red fire illuminated her sneering eyes.

She withheld immediate response and settled with grabbing the previously offered clothing from Ghost, and starting to dress.

“I would ask that you call me by my name and not by what flesh I inhabit. But I feel this point is not one I can argue. As to your question, yes. I do understand. You feel the Sith Order is in decline and wish to show me how I can attain true power instead of sitting and waiting for it to happen. Such was Furion’s goal for me as well.” It seemed they did have a few things in common. Even if Exodus looked nothing like him.

Keenava continued to dress in moderate silence, and when she was done, she waited for Exodus to continue.

This was going to be interesting...

Exodus · February 8, 2017

“...It isn’t one, Twi’lek.”

She was correct, this was not a point she could dispute, neither was it one she would want too. Exodus waved a signal and the room whirred with a quick echo. Seven isolated beams of light plummeted from the highest point of the chamber. The lustrous radiance that fell from above now further exposed how ruinous the little bout between newcomer and the condemned Stix truly was. In a fraction of the time it took to shed light across the spoiled floors, the same luminescence morphed into seven distinct people. These holographic representations were transparent and inaudible; each indiscernible as a shade of darkness covered their detail, but unmistakably menacing. There wasn’t a drop of sound from them, but their permeable bodies could be seen breathing. “Earn your name like the ones before you, I owe you nothing.” Exodus spat the words from his mouth and whether the seven that now circled them could actually react, was an unsettling question.

“Ghost,”

“Yes Lord Exodus, I am here.” His presence was a voice that echoed the entire room.

“...Show her.”

One of the holographic manifestations became highlighted as focal point while it’s beam intensified and shed light on the details of shadowy figure. “Twi’lek, this is Asmodeus Urik, the Invoker of the Crypts.” The face of Asmodeus revealed no trace of wear or time, a pale and bald blanket of secrets, though his black eyes screamed of a long twisted knowledge. His winter white flesh adorned just one thing of note; a large circle as red and deep as the blood moon itself stamped across the breadth of his shoulder blades. He wore a simple black robe and around his ankles were plain iron shackles jeweled with a single green gemstone in each manacle, however the chains themselves were severed at the brace. “He is the Orchestrator of the Other Side, his throat bears the horn that calls upon the dead. You will come to know him well.” The light around the Invoker vanished and his introduction came to a close.

A second beam awakened another, the shadow jarred alive.

“Behold. Amogmarr, the Relentless.” Ghost spoke theatrically. This Gen’Dai was a tall creature with powerful shoulders, a vicious dark face that expressed only savage laughter. There was a quiet calm mixed in his emotion as well, which was more or less the confidence he carried inside knowing that he could break anything that stood before him. He breathed large and heavy and appeared perfectly balanced, and on the verge of pouncing at any given moment. Here, amongst them all, he looked as if he was a caged beast that did not belong. There were a few low growls and a mixture of emotion that seemed to flow from the fearful display; there was no mistaking that this creature was a complete powerhouse. The gauntlet wrapped around his large left hand was similar to that of Exodus'' except this one had a sizable red gem buried in it.“A master warrior in our ranks, one of the most feared in his name, a name earned.”

"This one, you've met."

A third light brightened up. He was not conspicuously tall, his features were striking but only because Lallunia or Keenava would know him. His hair was wiry and gingerish but that was back when he had a full head of it, back before his insanity took him to be as bald as Asmodeus was. His skin seemed to be pulled backward from the nose, skinny and creased, where beetles seemed to crawl to and fro. There was something very slightly odd about him, but it was difficult to say what it was, yet it was painted throughout his entire appearance. Perhaps it was that his eyelids never seemed to shut. Perhaps it was the plain white mask that covered his face with the eye-holes carved out and a large gap for his wide chapped lips to be seen. Perhaps it was that he smiled slightly too broadly and constantly, which revealed that his gums and teeth were covered in pure metal; it was naturally unnerving because each tooth was sharpened into fangs while the top of his plated gums were lined with an orange gem. "Sticks and stones will break you, and those worms will eat you alive." The dreadful voice was heard by the Twi'lek alone, or was it just her mind playing tricks on her? "Stix the Bottomless, Rider of the Wyrmhole. You had defeated the abortion that was an attempt to re-create him through the cloning procedure. We have not uncovered a manner in which to reproduce him, he is a rare anomaly. He has taken a liking to you, be careful." The hint of warning that was obscured inside of Exodus' words was one of the first times he had shown signs of concern to this woman, the words alone carried with it a shuddering threat that could be felt deeper than what was said.

"Twi'lek. There are four others that have earned their names. All Seven are creatures that you cannot stand toe-to-toe with, nor are there many that can. Nevermind those that parade the galaxy with the name of Sith, they are pretenders and will be hunted and killed for their treachery, one-by-one. I give you a choice now. Become my apprentice and brave the pain, or choose to remain as weak as you are and be expelled from this place forevermore. You must choose now."

[ Decision: Wound of the Wrymhole ]

Difficulty: Hard

Summary: Keenava becomes apprentice of Dark Lord Exodus, and embarks on journey to create a weapon as well establish a name

Character: Keenava

Location: ---

Risk: ---

Reward: Imbued Weapon, Combat/Force Experience Logged, Apprenticeship to the Dark Lord.

Or

[ Decision: Your own Path ]

Difficulty: Extremely Hard

Summary: A challenger appears, Keenava fights for her life, and is expelled from Arachnakorr forever

Character: Keenava

Location: Where she now stands

Risk: Death

Reward: Freedom from the Sith

- - -

??? // [Pride - Violet.]

Asmodeus Urik, The Invoker of the Crypts // [Envy - Green.]

Stix the Bottomless, Rider of the Wrymhole // [Gluttony - Orange.]

??? // [Lust - Blue.]

Amogmarr, The Relentless // [Anger - Red.]

??? // [Greed - Yellow.]

??? // Sloth - [Light Blue.]

- - -

Keenava Dira · February 9, 2017

- His disregard was callous; numb.

Her position was cold; grim.

Keenava tested the bounds of her cloth shoes with her toes and rocked on the balls of her feet. She tensed the muscles of her leg and silently ran checks on each of her muscles and joints: quads, optimal condition; ankles, a little sore; shins, achy but manageable; glutes, capable. She maintained a working knowledge of the other muscle groups and their condition. But her legs were her priority.

Her eyes wandered the stone, combing the tapestry for a clue, considering the entire room before moving. She relived moments of her battle with Stix: the heavy breathing, the beating of her heart, and the blisters that built layer upon layer on her skin. It was vivid. She could touch the clarity of her brief recollection. But that wasn’t her aim. She watched as the two of them scurried across the floor. She looked at each step and motion, gauging the size and shape of the room. There was still only one escape; and that was, behind Exodus.

Keenava watched in patient silence. The hologram or force of nature, known only as ‘Ghost,’ floated away and started to illuminate pieces of the room. Light poured down and gave shape to mysterious figures. Figures that weren’t present during her battle or the moments before.

They were silent and breathing; abstract but solid. A cold shiver crawled across Keenava’s ebony skin, raising small bumps at the nape of her neck that continued to spread to her arms and legs.

They’re holograms… Kind of.

Thank you. Kava, may I try something?

Sure.

Can you do a walkabout and look at them? I want to keep my eyes on the relevant one.

You know he might find that insulting, right?

He hasn’t kicked me out yet.

Truth.

Keenava felt a tickle in her mind and an itching sensation at the back of her neck. She reached her arm back to investigate, only to find that the scar she was curious about before, was burning. The topmost illustration, the vertical line, was the most virulent and throbbed a little when she probed it. Curious.

Chilling air, brushed Keenava’s cheek as she stood, looking square at Exodus. She didn’t want to take time to see the others. They weren’t important. He was her priority. He was the reason she was here. He was the reason she woke up. He was the reason she wasn’t a puddle on the ground. This, man, was responsible for her rebirth. And although his cryptic reticence kept him from answering her in a more candid manner, she refused to abate her scrutiny. Her eyes looked deep into his emerald stare and tried to look for a reason. Why did he really care? What was in it for him?

Sith always had ulterior motives.

A fragile whisper interrupted her persistent stare, but Keenava’s features didn’t stir.

This one is interesting. He seems innocent and pure, but something sinister rests within him. I do not recommend using his appearance as any indication of his talent or lethality.

Keenava was given a small mental echo of how Asmodeus looked; illuminated were the shackles at his feet, like Stix. Each shackle held a green gem. Significant, please keep looking.

Keenava resumed her silent repose. It was the closest thing to ‘peace’ she had in this place. The ambiance clawed at her. It bit at whatever crude warmth she could accumulate. This was not a place to be comfortable. The dark side welled deep inside this sanctuary, as she had recently discovered, and although it provided an endless font of power, it was a terrible goad. This was not a place to rest idly. But her exit was blocked and her purpose was obscured.

The whisper was there again, a little stronger this time.

This one is extremely obvious. You had to deal with a Gen’Dai at one point, right? What was his name?

Blakkus, the unholy.

Ah, right. Uncomfortable. Anyway. This behemoth seems a might too easy to predict and thus would be dangerous to underestimate as well. Kara is salivating at the thought of going toe-to-toe with this thing, which I admit is probably a bad omen.

Something stirred inside Keenava, akin to a growl.

Kava ignored the sentiment and continued.

Silence pervaded. Keenava used it and continued to scan Exodus. His bearing seemed humanoid, but the feeling that pervaded his manner and speech suggested something else; he seemed like the mortal shell for something much bigger, like a beast. His emerald eyes filled with power, and his aura, although somewhat harder to detect at times, was pulsing with vivid hues of darkness. His dark brown hair stood as an odd mane to an otherwise typical human head. Yet, as Keenava had started to gather, Exodus was anything but typical. The last thing she noticed, before resting her eyes on his once more, were his tattoos. They glowed with an odd luminescence in the low light near the door and fluctuated as he moved and spoke.

The whisper returned. The voice was cold; menacing.

I put you away, you cruel, nasty little thing. One should not tolerate a being like you to exist.

"Sticks and stones will break you, and those worms will eat you alive."

The form of Stix’s gruesome visage played over Keenava’s mind and sent odd tingles down the length of her spine.

Cute

Kava, relax. It wasn’t the real Stix. This is the abhorrent wretch’s actual form.

Good, I hope I get to smother that comical display. He is the manifestation of need; A disgraceful display of reckless abandon, run amok.

Much like us sometimes.

Kava was silent but affirming.

Kava saw vengeance. But Keenava saw disgust. They were all men. All of them. Each silhouette – each figure – matched a manifestation of her past. Each of them formed a pretty picture of wrath in her mind and she couldn’t shake the veneer of fire that seared the surface of her mind. She was flesh again. She was nothing but a jumble of organs and genitalia. It was humiliating. It was disgraceful. And it was infuriating.

They ‘earned’ their names. They ARE their names.

Keenava’s ruby eyes illuminated with a subtle touch of brilliant crimson fire.

"Twi'lek. There are four others that have earned their names. All Seven are creatures that you cannot stand toe-to-toe with, nor are there many that can. Nevermind those that parade the galaxy with the name of Sith, they are pretenders and will be hunted and killed for their treachery, one-by-one. I give you a choice now. Become my apprentice and brave the pain, or choose to remain as weak as you are and be expelled from this place forevermore. You must choose now."

WEAK?!

The final pin in Lallu’s sensitive bubble dropped with the grace of a durasteel sledge. Kara growled deep, with feral desire. Kava sneered with lethal derision. And Kana gazed scornfully past the monolith that was Exodus. Keenava’s muscles tensed. But she silenced the urges that fought to make her impulses a reality. Keenava’s eyes were lit with green, red and blue. The three colors moved in slow harmony across her visage and she spoke with the presence of all.

“Do not be so quick to judge me. I will prove to you I am not weak. I will prove to you that I am more than the sum of my parts. I am Keenava Ootunavi of Ryloth. I have seen pain, the likes of which most men never see. More pain does not deter me. And to prove myself, I will join you. I will be your apprentice.”

Exodus · February 14, 2017

“.. Do not?”

There was a brief moment in her choice of words that he mulled over, a choice of words that dangerously unhinged the calmness that had settled inside of Exodus. The acknowledgement of apprenticeship would have sufficed, as the offer was an immortalization of power; an exquisite gift not handed out to many. Yet here, he felt her challenge, he felt her insubordination come alive. The rebellion in her stirred a wicked persuasion in all of his mind. His eyelids fell and remained closed while his discipline wrestled with a fierce temper that rose from the belly of the beast. The archaic hermetics that were traced across his skin spirited awake on behalf of the commotion in his soul. “Do not be so quick to judge me.” Liquid fire spilled into his veins. “I will prove to you I am not weak”. The laughter of Lord Ryu roared inside of his mind and the chaos that the Brotherhood wreaked on the backs of the ‘weak’ flashed before his eyes. “I am kee-”. He lifted his head, and her voice was lost to him, he lifted the skin of his eyes at last and stared into her.

The color of deception left the windows to his soul and in it’s absence was a feverish red.

His feet were set, and his posture as true and befitting as a King. His main hand reached behind his back and summoned Transcendence with seasoned ease. He bent at the knee, and lowered the weapon to the floor with care. The smooth skin of the unusual relic teased with the touch of it’s powerful Master was an unquenchable hunger . Exodus never faltered in the stare-down with the woman, not even with a single blink. Just as the Twi’lek had kept her focus on him as the presentation of her peers were announced, he kept his focus on her as the presentation of her extinction was fast-approaching. He returned to his full height and flexed his prized Shuk’orok passively. The tension brewed faster than one could anticipate, the thickness of it was insufferable for most. His power could break her where she stood, and she could feel but a tenth of it. But then it vanished whole. He stood before her, yet his presence disappeared entirely, not even a heartbeat.

“Do not?” He asked, rhetorically.

Exodus stepped forward and force-fed the apprehension, but his foot didn’t break a sound. He moved in grandeur, his noble grace forever flourishing. The runic bands across his arms still brimmed with deep colour; the font of extreme eminence speaking a language unknown to all. He could read the language in hers though; the three colors, the three personalities, and the harmonious convergence that grew inside of her. She and the company inside of her head spoke to him without regard, but for as much as they knew, they knew nothing. Their words and their boldness reared their repugnant heads in every expression imaginable. Exodus could comb through each of them as fiercely as a hot iron, for there was no depth of the mind that he could not reach. He could feel the hair raise and the goosebumps spread across his body with the excitement of battle tempting him, the flashback to his last conquering had lost its taste. Perhaps it was because he could naturally feel the impulses that she had resisted a second before, perhaps they all wanted their own taste.

“You wish to teach me instead Twi'lek? You wish to show me that I am a fool, that I cannot smell the difference in my kill?” The words spat, as blaster fire would melt skin

He continued his slow pace towards the woman, and then circled her steadily when he was within an arm's’ reach, watching her as a Wolf stalked their broken prey. She would be ill-advised to make a sudden move, for his metaphoric jaws would clamp down faster than one could perceive. He knew she had power, but in comparison to where she needed to be to survive, it was weak. Her indefensible confidence would be her downfall beneath the tower that now hounded her. Exodus danced with the idea that the ladies inside of her head were the cause, but then, they were all one and the same anyhow. His naked chest heaved a wind of silent power, one she could not feel, but one she could see in plain sight with a body trimmed so impeccably well. His waltz matched the speed of the second hand on a timepiece, but with a half second demurral; remarkable, because it was in this way that he rounded her, a tick-tocking metronome that counted down the time she had left to get down on her knees and stay his hand. Or maybe it was too late.

“Your mouth wishes to prove what your body can not. Kee-nava Ooh-two-nah-vee of Ryloth, you have seen but a hint of pain, you know nothing from this day forward. All you will know is that I am the harbinger of torment and that you are weak.”

Her mind filled with water, her mind was a bacta-tank, or perhaps she was inside of one now. Her world drowned fast and with panic. But then a shrill scream, a familiar scream filled her eardrums. Yes of course, it was enough to upset the dead, and it did. The hollow face of a dead mother pleaded for help. From one Twi’lek to another. The murder, the torture, the familiarity flashed before the eyes of Keenava Ootunavi. Her mother was dying before her eyes, slaughtered because she was weak. It ran in the family. The weak watched the weak get culled. Her Mother, her Sister, her Father. The memories poured on now, her broken sister, her filthy father, all the stains of her pain flushed with a dose tangibility. She could feel their hurt, they begged her to save them. But she could not, because she was weak. The damage was done, the deaths were counted, and the reaper continued to reap. Kara, Kava, Kana and Keenava all shared the same mind and thus, were the audience to the play. The Lek-rat chained in the cell shared by pigs, each turn, and each shareholder was viewable; their disgust and smut covered the weak Twi’lek whole, but this was her nature, to accept it. Whose touch did she prefer, them or Feenak? Did she prefer it was Seela or Verdiana that suffered their touches? Pictures of them all flashed passed her eyes. Happy, sad, broken and dead. Exodus’ voice drilled through the images, and whispered, “You are what I say you are.” The dead callous hand of her Father could be felt around her neck, she knew the feeling all too well, and it was here. Feenak smiled toothless.

The motion picture blacked out, and the ceremonious Wolf came back into the picture while he kept the same haunting pace, with and even more haunting smile about him. He was perfect to look at, but a real devil to deal with. "..Out of the four of you, who requires a lesson in respect first? Do not be shy. The memories are the least of your worries." The second hand reached twelve once more, and Exodus halted his march. Danger was here.

Keenava Dira · February 15, 2017

Why didn’t he strike me down?

What part of him cares about me?

Keenava stood.

Small particles of sediment built in her shoes and began to rub at her toes. The air started to ripple with pressure. It started to push in all around her. Exodus’ features stiffened, growing sharper. The play of cat and mouse had escalated. The mouse took her move, notes of silence slipping through her careful gestures. The cat. The cat was balking at the mouse. The cat saw the mouse attempt what it thought was an act of aggression. But the mouse was silent, watching the cat. Her mind was open to the majestic ethereal weave of creation that surrounded her and the whole of Arachnakkorr and was greeted by the monster held aloft behind Exodus’ mortal frame. Her companions stood, transfixed, in her wake, guarding the wings of her stubborn insolence; which, although foolish, held some air of truth. The four of them watched the potential energy building in their opponent like an opulent flame. The emotion bubbled. The power erupted and the body seethed. They could see it all. Like a technicolor masterpiece that blossomed into reality, it roared into brilliant chromatic hues. Strong reds were persistent but all hues were present. The other three retreated a step or two behind Keenava. But she didn’t move. Inside and outside…

Keenava stood.

She could see him now. Everything he was, shone in his eyes and in her mind, or everything he let her see; a portion of his power, but all of his intention. Even in portion, however, he was a fierce presence that threatened to break her with every thought. Keenava could feel pounding against her mind as the force rushed in. She could feel flooding power peeling against her metaphysical skin. But she would not move. She watched his power cut out like the wink of a small fire, but Keenava didn’t move. The voices in her head urged her to action. Kava urged her to back away. Kara was eager but cautious. And Kana acknowledged the threat imminent in Exodus’ presence. But Keenava would. Not. Move. Her eyes considered the scarlet presence that lingered in her prospective master’s opened eyes. His steps echoed off the stone. The cold stone that seeped through her shoes. Her breathing accelerated. Her muscles clenched. And her fight or flight response pushed to the bumps covering her skin. But her mind was a wellspring of iron. She sent silence to her muscles and took deep breaths. She quieted the furious thoughts. And still…

Keenava stood.

“You wish to teach me instead Twi'lek? You wish to show me that I am a fool, that I cannot smell the difference in my kill?” The words spat, as blaster fire would melt skin

His words splashed on her mind, attempting to burn. She simply stared at him, pulling against every other impulse and whim that chorused like a raucous symphony just within the threshold of her control. He circled her and kept a slow methodical pace. It was predatory. It was lethal. Keenava listened to his words but refused to move. She watched out of the corner of her eye and let the others guard her flank. Her obeisance was silence. But capitulation was not his aim. A predator through and through, his mind raked across hers. Phantom fingers played across her skin, probing for weakness and playing with the cold sensation that met their touch. But she stayed her hand. She stilled her muscles. And…

Keenava stood

“Your mouth wishes to prove what your body can not. Kee-nava Ooh-two-nah-vee of Ryloth, you have seen but a hint of pain, you know nothing from this day forward. All you will know is that I am the harbinger of torment and that you are weak.”

Keenava nodded solemnly. A silent admission. But his point was not made. He plunged deep into her mind to prove his power and control. He printed a macabre picture on the surface of her consciousness and tried to make her understand what true pain meant. But, compared to the real thing, everything seemed: hollow. The bacta sensation bathed her mind and she felt the stimuli she was meant to feel. But everything came to her as if through a thick cushion. Death, torture, and pain; ending with a vision of her father, holding her by the neck. Then the words. She knew the words well. And with little effort, they rang in her ear nubs.

“You are what I say you are.”

Clarity resumed and Keenava’s expression hadn't changed. She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t flinched. The others in her mind reacted as expected, and emotional stimuli were still rattling through her brain like a nuna on caf, but she hadn't and wouldn't move. His game was to throw power in her face; a cudgel to snuff a candle. But she knew what her past was: she saw her mother die. She felt her father take advantage of her innocence. She saw her sister with fresh excrement riddled across her miserable body. She felt the muscular flesh of Blakkus, gripping her throat as his subordinates took turns with her broken frame. She felt Scythin’s right arm, wrestling her lekku as he and two others forced her to the ground. She felt a slew of others line up in her memory as very real and terrible phantoms. Phantoms she knew. Phantoms that she saw, processed, and rallied against. His presence was a cold hand that dipped into her mind, forcing her to see what her past could look like. But the reality was much worse. All of it was a blur of pain and suffering. His facsimile was a mockery; an insult to her pain. But that’s what he wanted. He wanted to provoke her. He wanted submission. He was a predator and she was his prey. And like all predator’s, he desired the chase. So…

Keenava stood.

"..Out of the four of you, who requires a lesson in respect first? Do not be shy. The memories are the least of your worries."

Just like Furion, he’s afraid to care. Only, more so.

Keenava stood, but turned slightly, to look at where Exodus had stopped. Her eyes were still, but beneath them, a pool of emotion sat. Silent tears curled across her ebony cheeks as she relived the pain of her past, ignoring the figurative flash powder he shoved in her face. She stared into his scarlet tinged emerald eyes and waited for him to cease his monolog.

Slowly drawing her power, taking care not to move or act too quickly, and stealing her resolve, the Twi’lek remained, staring at Exodus. Her arms stayed by her side and her legs relaxed. The turmoil localized to her mind and the brand on the back of her neck lit up. Fiery pulses of green, blue, and red, seared her flesh, and glittering strands of hot saline, tickled the corners of her eyes, like diamonds in the night sky.

When silence filled the room, their slow steps echoed on the stone. Three physical bodies stepped from Keenava’s place and filled the circle that Exodus made. They were of different size and appearance, but their presence was unmistakable. Each of them, Keenava included, stood, looking at Exodus and not making a single move.

“Teach.” They said in unison.

More words would not avail her. More insolence, although prudent in drawing him out, was not going to end in a practical outcome. This was her only option. He was in charge. His control mattered. It was important for him to know he had control. A small child in charge of its own sand castle; endlessly destructive and stubbornly insistent. It was important to him. So Keenava gave him what he wanted.

She didn’t know what she was thinking before. The Lallu part of Keenava wrestled to explode in an emotional display of resistance. But Keenava knew better. Keenava knew that in a play of power, the one who held the power would always win. The only thing to do was to make it easy. The easier it was, the harder it would be. A mind freely given, is not as appealing as one you take by force.

“Teach me. They are extensions. They will learn through me.” Keenava said, stepping slowly through the group of women and standing before Exodus. Beyond her steps, she stilled her mind once more. She would not move unless he willed it.

She looked deep into the danger that was held before her and stared into the face of terror itself.

Keenava dipped down into a kneeling position; both knees touching the cold stone.

Exodus · February 25, 2017

“...You show severe inconsistencies in your character Twi’lek. One moment your memories and lack of control are the reason behind your outburst against the Wyrm, the reason behind your fatal fall on Coruscant, the reason behind your constant inward struggle. And now, you stand before me wholly unaffected by those same memories compounded. One or maybe all of you are responsible for this tragic weakness. You must learn self-control, this front you show now is a farce.”

The boy and his sand castles; how easy it would be to break this one too. She stood fearless but nearly entirely ignorant to the reason he hounded her, the bravery was misplaced and did naught to convince him of her control. Exodus tremored with displeasure, but understood that her wild manner of conduct was due to her inexperienced dealings with Sith this enlightened. Still, he stood now before the strange coalition with an urgency to teach. One, two and three. Three women pushed themselves from the body of his apprentice and stood uncommon from one another. Each of them were ordained with a colour palette that further expressed their true natures. The animal fervency idled behind the eyes of the Dark Lord, surveying the incredible potential buried inside of these creatures as their source rested on her knees. Exodus closed his mind and the skin of his eyes for a brief moment as he washed his hand through his thick mane. The euphoric cardinal flow that riveted between the emerald in his pupils began to fade slowly. His lust for battle would be quelled for now, the effortless kill would demonstrate nothing while she fell to the floor in submission.

“... Twi’lek. You will find focus inside the role of the Chameleon. Fashion a new identity, one that commands the world around you. Become the mastermind of your image and your actions. You must constantly be aware of your weaknesses and shift your entire balance to mask them until they become your strengths. You must arrange yourself to become the shepherd of these sheep. Exodus nonchalantly waved in the direction of her counterparts. “You do not have the roar of a lion just yet, so you must morph your mind and your power to operate unseen which is impossible with an unpredictable focus such as yours.”

Exodus moved forward to the woman who knelt before and placed his hand on her shoulder. An acceptance; an oath of power and wisdom in a simple gesture. He released and nodded to each of the women in the background and then took his slow pace towards the exit of the room. The tattered cloth that wrapped his arms in a vice flickered in the air as he walked, another illustration of the imposing Sith King. The smell of blood and decay was fill enough for him this evening, and there were still important matters to attend to.

“Your task is to take control of the process. Do not allow the others to limit and mold what it is that you do, but command them to exercise your will as you do the Force. Become the architect of your mind. Reshape every angle as you would shape clay. Burn it with your ambition Twi’lek, and you will feel alive under the many creations you mold. Alter your past, alter your pain, and sharpen your focus. You are an Assassin. I will show you the way. Seek out the Invoker, your ship awaits.”

The metal door that barred them now lifted, and Exodus lingered no longer.

Keenava Dira · February 26, 2017

"Yes, Master Exodus"

The words slid slowly out of her mouth with practiced intonation. It was a common phrase – different masters, but the same method of address. It was a phrase that colored the darkest moments of her history; and the brightest. It was an ironic dichotomy for a phrase that seemed so matter-of-fact. But Keenava understood. She had knelt and prostrated herself to another who longed for power; to another beast that had their own grand ambitions. Granted, Keenava had been at peace with her servitude to Furion. But their association seemed to fulfill some perverse payment that she felt she owed him. Any attachment she felt for him developed after that.

It seemed she would always be a slave after all.

No. This had to stop. This would be her last master. This would be her last slaveholder. This would be the last time that Keenava Ootunavi allowed herself to fall into the same pattern that she started over twenty years ago. She would work until she had the power to be her own master. She would work until she could be the best Sith she could be. She would prove to them all that she had it in her to succeed. It was her movement after all. Her last dance was coming. And she had to prove that she didn’t need a lead.

Keenava stood and turned to the others. They were still connected to her and they could all feel the strong conviction in her passionate heart. But she still felt that she needed to elaborate. “Alright. Speech time.”

The others nodded silently and looked at her patiently, eagerly waiting.

“First, I am sorry. I am sorry that I feared change. I am sorry that I feared change so much that I assumed your actions and felt that I needed to destroy myself to get through to you all.” Keenava started. She noted that Kara and the others tensed a little, but they didn’t interrupt. “Second, I don’t know the fullest extent of our abilities, but I want to work with all of you. When we put our heads together, amazing things can happen. I mean, technically, it’s all just one head. But you know what I mean. Finally, I want to promise here and now, that we stick together. I want to promise right now that, no matter how crazy this gets, no matter what comes our way, and no matter how hard these challenges are, we don’t give up. Because, without any one of us, the whole inevitably fails.” Keenava waited for her speech to linger in the silent stone room. “You with me?”

The other three took turns looking at each other and silently deliberated. When they were finished, they looked to Keenava and smiled. Kava’s smile was cunning, Kara’s was crazy, and Kana’s was mischievous. “For now, and forever. Keenava.” They said in unison.

“Now! Let’s go kill something!” Kara said, her bestial voice echoing on the stone.

“Oh boy, here she goes again.” Kava said, placing her hand on her head, shaking it wearily.

Keenava looked at them all with half a smile. “Later Kara. In the meantime, let’s get set up and ready to go. I have no idea what he has in store for us, so keep your eyes peeled.”

The other three slowly coalesced into forms of pure energy and melded back into Keenava as the Twi’lek left the room and ventured down the corridors. She didn’t know exactly where she was going. But she could feel certainty in her steps and trusted that she would find her way, one way or another.

The Sith Empire · February 28, 2017

The halls were embroidered with common-folk dappered in all black robes, each of them carried a vivid illustration of an emerald spider on their back. It was an ocean of thrillers; countless of men, women and children that walked unobstructed and poured through the deep halls. Their faces were impossible to define and how each of them wore their hoods as low as their nose added to the difficulty. One would wonder where the celebrations had moved too as well, and what happened to the pure ardor that shook the temple when the new Sith was born. The vitalities were replaced with a morose formation of dark wanderers that stepped in-sync to an invisible tune. Exodus was nowhere to be seen inside of the crowds of black. Chandeliers filled with raw flame hung from the tall outcrops of the ceilings, and the sand-touched stone walls held only what could be considered cave-paintings all across them. These drawings were archaic and held a truth that only few could truly understand. At a particular bend in the hall, there was an access point that was encapsulated in the same metal that covered the top of the temple; this is where one of few exits were located. Here, a transport ship awaited the Lord in action.

Keenava Dira · March 1, 2017

Deep breath Keenava. You’re just, in a big place that you have no knowledge of, surrounded by people you don’t know and being guided by a big scary man that you also know nothing about. Well, almost nothing. No pressure.

Convincing.

If a glare could be conceived purely by thought, Keenava was glaring at Kana with daggers in her eyes.

What? Just trying to ease the tension. Go back to your inner monologue, I’ll just busy myself over here.

Thank you.

Keenava blended with the milling gapers. Their hoods were drawn so low that she couldn’t see faces beneath them. But she didn’t need to. They were pawns of the master just as she was. They had their goal just as she did. Their identities were inconsequential; just as hers was.

She didn’t really know where she was going. The temple wasn’t laid out in a pattern that she could follow. There was apparently a ship waiting for her somewhere and she was supposed to meet an invoker. It was all very mysterious and wherever that was, was anyone’s guess. She turned to ask someone, but their heads were trained to the floor and they refused to answer. It was a dismal predicament. She guessed it may have been part of the challenge and pressed on, determined to find something to indicate where she should go.

After a few moments of aimless searching, there was a warmth in the floor that seemed to indicate her path, or a path. She wasn’t sure it was wise trust idle feelings in a place that was full of darkness. Her survival instincts begged her to avoid it, because the signs seemed to point to an obvious result. But, it was her only lead so she shifted her pace accordingly.

With her path chosen, Keenava looked around the temple to gather more information. There weren’t any exits that she could see. The walls and ceilings were massive in style and scope. And as she walked, feeling the cold stone beneath her feet, she took careful observation of the stonework, brushing her fingers along the carvings and admiring the craftsmanship. This was clearly meant as a place of worship or practice. The priests or supplicants that she could see pacing about were a good indicator.

When she came to a fork in the road and lost the warmth at her feet, Keenava stopped looking at the temple's construction and started to gauge her surroundings. She doubted her intuition and began to see faults in her navigational skills. She was determined to continue regardless of misdirection, when a voice came from behind her.

“Apprentice, the door is here.”

The voice was without body. A chill ran down her spine at the thought. But, sure enough, when she walked over to where the voice came from, she found a metal wall with a hatch that led to the surface. And from there, she was still lost.

She could see a ship waiting for her not too far from where she emerged. But where was she? Where was this? Where was everything she knew?

Keenava took a moment to herself, steeling her thoughts and imagining what small measure of peace she could in this world of mystery and abstraction. It was all she could do to avoid over stimulation at this point. She lost her way. She lost her identity. And she lost everything that she knew up to this point. She was starting to regain everything. But it would take time.

Sound tickled her ears. Whispers from the dark slithered into her mind and she looked at a large sphere that was hanging not too far from where she stood. It called out to her. It was almost alive, and it called out to her, wanting her to enter its amorphous shape. It found her questions and was willing to give answers. She would find herself if she entered the sphere. She would find out where she was, if she entered the sphere. All it would take was a leap of faith and trust.

In that moment of subversion, Keenava was gifted with ironic clarity. Trust was not something Keenava had an abundance of; especially here. She couldn’t pretend that this sphere was anything other than a construct of the dark side, threatening to tempt her and draw her away from her mission. With hardened resolve, she forced her face toward the ship that she presumed was her ride, and ran to board it, eager to begin the rest of her journey.

AVATAR Kain · March 1, 2017

A simple comm text message arrives for Exodus, a simple error occurring if the message is accessed on any device that couldn't handle a secure connection with high bandwidth holonet access. Nested inside the text was coding that would automatically create a portal that Kain would be able to use to establish a proper means of communication. To pique his interest, old Imperial clearance codes were transmitted, codes that only someone with significant rank would have access to, and only the highest ranking Imperials or Sith of those days would recognize.

The Sith Empire · March 1, 2017

The flat surface of the temple unwound to unleash the first apprentice since the creation of Arachnakorr. A man adorned in the wear of the Arachnakorian standards stood with an excited smile pasted across his face. He was a polished man from head to toe and his noble red and turquoise uniform was without a wrinkle. “Lord Keenava!” He waved familiarly towards what he perceived to be a woman full of distress, but his enthusiasm could never die, he lived to serve. The escort shuttle was fired up and primed to venture forward and continue her lessons; the door reeled open and once the woman braced herself for the ride, they were off.

“Lord Keenava. We are headed towards the Sands of the Demon Moon.” He laughed quickly, nervously but still a smile laced his appearance. “It isn’t so bad really, and you’re strong, I can tell you’re strong. You’re young too, and very pretty might I add-- But I! Oh, I’m rambling again.” The ship lifted far into the skies and a refreshing flow of light beamed beautifully across the luxury escort-class, the worldcraft was nothing short of beautiful in every direction. “Pretty isn’t it? It is a gift. But you know that, or you will I think. I brought you clean clothes, they’re under the seat next to you, but where we’re going you may have no use for them just yet. You don’t talk much, do you? Or do you have no tongue? I’ve seen that before you know, I use to be a warrior myself, but mostly in my head. Or is it my breath? I’m sorry my Lady. Why is it you want to be a warrior anyways? Not like Master Ryu in the books I mean, but I mean a Sith? Why do you want to be a Sith?"

He finally turned his head to look towards his passenger, his head filled with curiosity, and his joy for being entrusted with precious cargo was unmatched.

Exodus · March 1, 2017

Exodus was alone, his mind travelled the stars and his shell locked into a quarter lotus meditative focus. His apprentice, he could feel inside of the force, as much as the events that scattered far and wide. There was so much to be done, but calculation and time was a perfection the assassin would never renounce. His natural instinct demanded one promise that he could not escape, and he knew that there must be blood.

“Master, there is, information. There is a contact that awaits.”

“Spit it out, Ghost.”

“I have vaulted the information that has been patched through, although it could be a ruse. However, I have moved the link to a secure connection. Use this console and we cannot be traced to our location, I shall enforce that. Also, Master, someone wishes to speak with you.”

Exodus raised an eyebrow, and stood from his peace.

“...What are you waiting for then?”

AVATAR Kain · March 1, 2017

>protocols received
>link established
>exe[bruteforce]
>exe[bruteforce] has encountered a link error
>firewalls detected
>analyzing...
>analyzing...
>security system detected
>warning: AI programming detected
>subroutine matrices shifting 
>lockout established
>gif[middlefinger] received
>mov[spank] received
>jpg[blackpower] received
>reevaluating communication parameters
>new parameters established: counterhack protocols active
>jpg[whiteflag]
>infolink protocols transmitted
>handshake successful: building runtime portal

Kain's face, at least the one he chose for himself, materialized in a video window on the console. There was no flesh, only a vague humanoid form covered in ever changing coding.

"Well. I see the Sith have really upped their game regarding electronic security. My regards to your defensive AI. Allow me to introduce myself...I am Kain. I assume this is the current highest ranking member of the Sith Order, it took a long time to obtain this contact information. I formally request asylum and defector status from the Empire. They have strayed too far from their ideals, they have become that which was once their enemy. I cannot abide to be made to serve them under current circumstances. As the Sith were historically their closest allies before their reversal of ideals, I now wish to ally myself and my skills under your banner, for mutual benefit."

This was a long shot, but Kain knew the Sith had a far weaker foothold in the galaxy than they'd had in millenia, and could use what help was offered. If it meant protection of a defecting AI, so be it.

Exodus · March 3, 2017

>warning: attempted breach detected
>exe[trumpwall] 2..
>exe[trumpwall] 1..
>exe[trumpwall] established
>analyzing...
>analyzing...
>breach prevented
>jpg[whiteflag] received
>infolink protocols received
>handshake successful: building runtime portal

Exodus was not moved as he stared into the man of code. There was a semblance of human nature to the fashion in which it spoke, but the visual was an illustration of no more than a processor at best. He knew his enemies were abound, and he knew there would be those that flee to the side of true power before the time was ripe. In this case, there was no proof whether friend or foe was before him now.

“I have no want for names, Kain, nor your assumptions.” Exodus paused and listened to the force, not as a friend however, he commanded the whispers and in high tempests they came. The force was his to devour and he could see clearer when he feasted. “Your empire is a disgrace and I do not trust you any more than you trust me.”

“The program attempted to breach the system but was shorted, my Lord.” Ghost uncharacteristically quipped.

“You see, Kain? You have brought me a gift with your left to blind me from your right, which I can admire on some level. Your value however is not unnoticed, but neither is it needed to crush any that stand in my way. Your terms can be accepted, only if you accept mine. I will need you to earn your keep and I will demand fealty far greater than that of what the Empire wished of you. You will also earn your keep Kain, just as any beneath my banner must do. The details of your allegiance will be ironed out by Ghost, but before all of this, what more can you offer when you step into the Dark Side?”

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