Mace Loathay

Mace got to his feet and rubbed his eyes. "OK. I'll try." Mace closed his eyes and try to feel the world around him. He was calm with himself. He tried to move the bacta, but he didn't know where it was. The healing liquid slowly became to glow in the darkness. Almost as if he could see it. The green glow slowly got bigger, as if it was getting closer to him. He opened his eyes and saw the bacta tank floating in front of him, but only for a second. He was so ecstatic that he lost his concentration and it hit the ground, shattering the vile. He looked up to John. "Sorry."

Mace saw a vile of bacta and decided to try with that. The green liquid, with the faint glow, looked pleasing to the eye. He lifted his hand and moved it around like Hartel did, but nothing happened. He squinted his eyes tensed his fingers and hand, but still nothing. He lowered his hand and sulked down to a sitting position on the floor. "It's not working!"

Mace nodded. "Ready."

Mace followed the man onto the ship. His story about redemption was stirring. The Force, as he called it, made it so that the story was particularly touching to him, but again, he didn't know why. The way he spoke of this Force, and the way he spoke to him, Mace had a sense that he was very special. Special even for someone who could be a Jedi. He watched Hartel as he toyed with the numerous buttons and switches of his ship.

Mace followed this man to the 'temple', as he called it. It wasn't much more of a walk to get there, but once inside Mace was engorged by his surroundings. His eyes filled with wonder. These surroundings did not pale in comparison to anything he had before. In fact, they greatly surpassed anything he had a memory of. He was too enamored with the epic scale of this place to be able to retain any immediate questions. He looked around at the people wondering the halls, at a woman sitting on the floor, meditating. This was going to be his new life. And that wasn't so bad.

"It will destroy you on the inside, until all you feel, all you ever felt, for life, for love, are never again associated with your name." He didn't know why, but these words were heavy on his heart. It was similar to his vision. Something unknown to him, but he knew. Somehow he knew. Something he knew. Something bigger than himself. "Is that a Promise?" He smiled. "Jedi? I'm to become... Jedi?"

"Can't. Get the vision... out of head." His words were coming to him easier now. Perhaps he knew how to speak and had forgotten. "Two men. One had horns. They killed. Everyone. Killed fathers. In front... of their family. Their wifes. The fields were soaked... in blood. Red light came from shiny tubes. Like this," he held up the cylinder he held in his hand, with the exposed purple gem peering to the sky. The right looking man spoke to the horned man. Called him by name." He found that talking about it made him a bit calmer, even if it was not tranquility. "Barohm Zar."

He closed his eyes. Sense? Was that the 'feeling' sensation he had? There was a battle there. Yes. Living beings making war with each other. Hostile invaders had come. Those who were here before defended it valiantly. The invaders were unmatched, it seemed. Easily cast aside. His right eye twitched and his head jerked slightly to the side. He saw... red again. This red was different. More red. Redder red. It flew through the air, stained the grass and skin. He saw a Zabrak and a Human wreaking havoc. With bright sticks of red light in one hand and blue-purple jagged light being cast from the other. There was a woman screaming as she crawled away from the carnage in vain. A man tried to intervene, but the Zabrak dispatched of him with ease. He then picked up the woman by the shirt and struck her down; ending his rampage, having killed the set number of victims he planned to. The Human was floating in the air in a piece of metal; a ship. He spoke to him and fled away like the fastest of birds, toward the heavens. The Zabrak simply stood there, basking in his glorious carnage. He opened his eyes. Tears coming from them. The red was blood. It was death. It was genocide. He looked away. The images still burnt in his mind when he looked at the landscape. Something horrible happened here. Began here. And he was somehow connected to it. He looked up to the man who had approached him earlier. Some unworldly presence that flooded him gave him the words he needed. "I don't... like... here," his said eyes still red from his tears.

-delete-

So what is your name? Mace closed his eyes tightly, as he felt a stinging pain in his mind. .:Your given name is Mace Loathay. Your path in life is entirely up to you. Destiny does not condemn you to the Light or to the Dark, as neither will stay your purpose. The Force is strong in your family. You will go forth and do right by the living entity that surrounds and binds all of us, Mace Loathay". He opened his eyes and saw the man in front of him sweep his hair behind his ear and smiled. The man turned and began to walk toward the enclave Mace was eying earlier. Mace just stood there, confused with himself. Was he thinking these thoughts? Was this man thinking them? How could he know such things?'' "So, what is your name?" Mace felt a haunting sense of déjà vu. The man had already said this thing, and yet he said in the exact same manner as before, and as if he hadn't said it in the first place. Mace realized the man was going away and started to follow. "Mace," he mustered.

Mace rubbed his nose on his sleeve and got to his feet. He had stopped crying. The man had made some noise from his mouth, but he didn't understand it. He could tell that he was trying to communicate with him. Still, there was an air of benevolence about this person. He walked up to him. All Mace did was nod.

Mace was startled by the sudden loud noises. Something screamed in the sky as it fell to the enclave nearby, as said building spewed lights at seemingly hostile intruders. Mace looked around urgently for a place to hide. He saw a nearby house. Abandoned. He put his rock on the ground and his metal cylinder back in his pants. He tried to climb into the house in the opening, but some invisible wall blocked him. He went to the door and pushed against it, but it didn't move. He picked up his rock and hid on the far side of the house behind a bush. He clutched the rock with both hands. He closed his eyes and wished this would all just go away. He felt something. Something else that felt more than other things felt. It didn't feel as much as what he felt earlier, but it was more potent and wasn't a lingering sensation. It was more... alive. There was a loud banging, as Hartel knocked on the door. What was that? What WAS that?? He stood up and threw the rock at the man standing in front of the house, hitting him in the leg. Stupid. He'd probably only just aggravate it. He pulled out the cylinder again, clutching it with both hands. Little did Mace know that this was the beginning of a new life. Something told him not to be afraid. Something told him that whoever this was he would know what the broken piece of metal was that Mace carried at all times. He eased his grip on the heirloom. He just fell down on his arse and started to cry.

Hungry. That's all Mace could think. The sensation at least; he didn't know the word for it. He'd felt this feeling before, but never this potently. He remembered eating. A round white... thing in front of him on a raised platform with all sorts of warm things that were pleasing to his tongue, with followed by cool refreshment and wet his mouth. He reached into his pants and pulled out a cylindrical metallic object. He nervously ran his thumb over the textured box that was raised from it. It was a habit of his. This item was the one constant in his life; at least that he could recall. It was absolutely worthless in any practical sense. But it was pleasant to the eye. If it did do anything, the button he ran his thumb over compulsively was probably what made it do anything. He also liked the purple gem he could see inside it. The outer shell damaged, exposing it. It would glow beautifully whenever the light hit it just right. This item, whatever it was, brought him some peace. He felt... happy. The boy got to his feet and began to wonder. He felt... everything. It was if he could feel the very world around him. He saw a rock in front of him. Small, enough to carry in one hand for a human his size. It was a little heavy, but it was smooth and round, almost shaped like the piece of metal he carried with him. Something told him to keep it. He felt something else. Something that... felt more than everything else felt. Almost everything else he felt he could see. But this feel was different. It wasn't close by. He closed his eyes and saw red. He opened them and the ground was red. He walked more and more and more. The ground was red everywhere. Soaked. He was feeling something else now. Something horrible. Something horrifying. He looked up at the sky. The blue sky and away from the red ground that was so gruesome. Fear was trying to take his nerves but he resisted. Valiantly. He clutched the rock and metal in each of his hands. Walking. He just kept walking. He looked down and the ground was red. Still. He closed his eyes and continued to walk. He tried to think of other things red. Red hair. Red and black hair. Full and graceful, even if unkempt a little. A beautiful expression. A smile. He smiled. A happy smile. He had stopped walking. He looked down and the ground was higher. He ran his fingers through it as the ground came up in little strands, almost consuming him. He looked back and it was so all around. No more red.

A small child was stirred to the waking world by a ringing shot. He quickly realized he didn't know where he was, even if he could barely understand the concept of place and time. He didn't remember the clothing he was wearing. He had been wearing cloth much nicer than what he presently bore. How long ago that was, though, he couldn't say. Aside from the fact from his inability to speak; he couldn't recall. He reached for the nearest blunt object near him. He closed his eyes. .:You will wake, Mace Loathay. Your journey begins. Your station in life is going to change. Things will get better. They have to. They will:. He winced. His head felt twice as big as it actually was. He swung out in front of him frantically, blindly, at nothing at all. He fell to the ground from the blood in his head leaving him. He clutched the stick in his hands. Crying. He was scared. Couldn't remember the last time he wasn't afraid. Always afraid. Was their more to life than this? Their had to be more than this savage and frightening void.

Real Name: Mace Loathay Age: 8 (physical) 1 (actual) Species: Human Height: 3'7 Weight: 98 lbs Hair: Red Eyes: Red Sex: Male Homeworld: Unknown Alignment: Neutral Clothing: Brown Weapon: N/A Force Sensitive Inventory: Credits Possessions: Lightsaber (inherited, deactivated) The lightsaber does not work and is beyond my character's knowledge to repair it. Is this acceptable?